Breakdown
by IMTheresa
Summary: Set early in the series, Sam is riddled with nightmares and, scared for his brother's sanity, Dean turns to people from his past to help.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: The Winchesters belong to Eric Kripke and I will be forever grateful to him for sharing them with us. I hope he doesn't mind me borrowing them from time to time; I promise to return them as I found them. _

_And I know the rule. If I break them, I buy them._

_A/N: I had an idea somewhere around episode two or three. I've written it in my head a million times while walking my dogs; making adjustments here and there as we learned more about the Winchesters. I think it's a good idea, but I'm honestly not sure that I'm good enough to write it and do it justice. I'm finding I have no choice, though. It pops into my head at the most inopportune times so I decided if I start working on it, maybe it would leave me alone long enough to do school work and the work I get paid for. _

_I decided to do the story in a series of one-offs and here's the first installment. It's set early on in the series; definitely pre-"Home". Trust me, I do have a plan. I just hope you don't get too bored along the way. Since this is a series of one-offs, regular updates aren't promised, but I will try not to make you wait too long._

_Reviews are appreciated – I'm addicted to feedback. Thanks to Kelli for her help._

**Breakdown **

**Part One**

"_Why, Sam?"_

Sam's eyes fluttered open. He waited to hear his brother stir; Dean almost always woke up when Sam had a nightmare, but then he remembered that Dean was probably still at the bar. Sam let his older brother talk him into hanging out and having a few beers. Exhausted, Sam wanted to go back to the motel room after only a few minutes. He struggled to control his breathing, acutely aware of how much he missed his brother's calming voice.

Sam threw off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. Night after night, he awoke from nightmares about Jessica's death. Sometimes there was another dream the he could never quite remember, but every night there was something to disturb his rest. Without regular sleep, Sam was always exhausted. It was getting harder and harder to hide it from his brother, but if he let himself think about it, he would realize there was nothing he could hide from Dean. They spent too much time together and Dean was too good at reading him. Besides, the dark circles under Sam's eyes and the irritability were pretty good clues.

He looked down at his hands. They were shaking and he couldn't make them stop. Afraid that Dean would walk in any minute, Sam made his way to the bathroom. He avoided his reflection in the mirror as he splashed cold water on his face.

He couldn't bear to see the fear and concern in his brother's eyes, but at the same time he wished Dean was there. Even as a child, Sam had been plagued by nightmares and back then it had only taken a few words from his brother to calm all his fears.

John Winchester wanted his children to be fully aware of the paranormal danger they faced; however, he didn't intentionally expose them to anything when they were too young to understand. Often though, Sam would sneak out of bed when John was on the phone with one of his contacts, or when one of them would visit and there was a conversation at the kitchen table after the boys were sent to bed. Too smart for his own good, but too afraid to talk about what he'd heard, he would internalize everything, only for it to manifest in nightmares. He was terrified every time his father left for a job because he knew what John would be facing. Sam would wake up, screaming from a nightmare, though every time, Dean was there to calm him.

Still shaking, Sam sat down on the closed toiler lid and rested his head in his hands. He knew he couldn't go on like this. He knew eventually the lack of sleep and the horror of seeing Jessica die over and over again would take its toll; it already was.

Soon after the brothers reunited, Dean proclaimed no chick flick moments, but yet he tried to encourage Sam to talk about the nightmares and about Jessica. Sam couldn't make himself do it. It was bad enough seeing it, and talking about it was too much.

He didn't know how long he sat in the bathroom, but sometime later, he heard the motel room door open and he knew Dean was back. He should have gone back to bed where he could pretend he was asleep; now he would have to face his brother. He was torn between relief that he wasn't alone anymore and the fear of what Dean would say to him.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Seeing Sam's empty and rumpled bed, Dean knew his brother had suffered another nightmare. He felt guilty for not being there when it happened, but at the same time he was a little relieved. Dean hadn't expected Sam to stay at the bar with him for very long and, truth be told, he was a little thankful when Sam left. The vacant look in his younger brother's eyes, the way he just seemed to float without really being where he was; these things disturbed Dean more than he could ever express.

Even though he was only four when Sam was born, Dean remembered being excited to finally meet his new little brother and the first time Mary put him in Dean's arms, he swore to himself that nothing bad would ever happen to him. But then there was the fire and John put Sam in Dean's arms, telling him to run. From that moment on, Sam was his responsibility.

Dean sat down on the edge of his bed and rubbed his face with his hands. Sam was getting worse and still refused to talk to him about the nightmares. Almost every night, Dean woke to the sound of Sam's struggled breathing or calling out Jessica's name. Other nights, he woke up to find Sam on the computer or flipping through television channels. He didn't know what to do and that was not a feeling Dean Winchester was used to. He knew how to fight any number of supernatural entities, but he didn't know what to do for his little brother. Before Sam left for college, Dean had always known what to do to help him feel better, but now his brother was almost a stranger to him.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sam couldn't wait any longer without making things worse. He still didn't feel very steady, but he knew he had to leave the bathroom. He stood at the door with his hand on the knob for several moments before he found the strength to turn it and push the door open.

"Hey." Sam said as he crawled back under the covers. "Good night?"

"I won five hundred dollars playing pool."

"Great." Sam stared at the ceiling.

"Sammy –" Dean hesitated. "Sam –"

"No." Sam whispered, so softly Dean wasn't sure he'd spoken at all. "No, Dean."

Dean leaned forward. "You have to talk to me, Sam. Before this kills you."

Sam said nothing; he only stared at the ceiling.

Dean rubbed his face again. He thought back to when they were children and it hurt to realize how far apart he and Sam had grown. Even though they were together again, looking for their father and fighting whatever evil things they found along the way, there was still a distance between them Dean had not been able to bridge.

Sam's life was perfect before his big brother showed up at his doorstep. Now his girlfriend was dead, killed by the same thing that killed their mother, he was a college drop-out and was back in a world he fought to escape. Dean was sure Sam blamed him and that was what kept him from opening up.

But Sam didn't blame Dean for anything. It wasn't Dean's fault that their father had decided to disappear without a word. It wasn't his fault that Sam had dreamed of Jessica's death for days before it happened and did nothing to stop it. The only thing he held against Dean was siding with their father when they'd fought after Sam announced he was going to college. And even that wasn't something he could entirely hold Dean responsible for. Dean was fiercely loyal to their father and Sam knew that his brother had no real choice when it came to following John Winchester.

Dean watched his brother for a moment, then sighed. He was sure he wouldn't get any communication from Sam tonight.

"You gonna be able to get some sleep?" he asked in resignation.

Sam said nothing, instead turning his back on Dean and closing his eyes. Dean almost resisted the temptation, but before crawling into bed himself, he smoothed the blanket across Sam's shoulder and whispered, "Goodnight, Sammy."

OOOOOOOOOOO

The same thing happened the next night. And the next. Then the following afternoon. Sam woke from horribly graphic dreams, reliving Jessica's death over and over again. He'd all but stopped eating, and Dean was putting off going on substantial hunts because he was afraid Sam's fatigue would put them in too much danger.

Dean felt so useless; like such a failure. His little brother was destroying himself and Dean hadn't found a way to help him. He wondered, briefly, if he was too afraid of the closeness they'd had before – so much had happened while Sam was away at school and Dean never thought he would come back. Was he afraid to be that close to his brother again? Afraid that if he let Sam all the way back in, that he would be more hurt when Sam finally left again?

OOOOOOOOOOO

"_Why, Sam?"_

Sam's eyes flew open, but he could still see the fire. He could almost even feel the heat. Jessica, pinned to the ceiling and asking him _why?_ He sat up and looked around the room. The sun was shining through partially closed curtains and Dean was nowhere to be found. Then Sam remembered; they'd only checked in to the motel a little while ago and Dean had gone off to find them some food.

He stood up, but fell back to the bed. He was dizzy and his head was pounding. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten; he was pretty sure it was at Dean's insistence. He tried to get up, but realized he didn't want to. He didn't want to fight any more. He didn't want to pretend anymore. He wanted his life back. He wanted his father safe and hunting with Dean again. And more than anything else, he wanted Jessica back in his arms. He wanted to marry her, to have children with her, to grow old next to her. That wasn't going to happen now. Jessica was dead and John may as well be, for all the closer they'd come to finding him.

Sam was curled up on the bed, rocking back and forth when Dean walked in with fast food burgers a few minutes later. Tossing the bags onto the small desk, Dean sat on the bed behind his brother, hand on his shoulder. Sam was muttering something that Dean couldn't make out. He had no idea what to say to him, nothing could make things any better, so he simply held Sam as best he could just to let him know he wasn't alone.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Winchesters. They belong to a lot of other people, including Eric Kripke, and I will be forever grateful to him for sharing them with us. I hope he doesn't mind me borrowing them from time to time; I promise to return them as I found them. _

_And I know the rule. If I break them, I buy them._

_A/N: Okay, not quite as one-offy as I'd wanted, but a logical place to stop for now. Thanks for the feedback from part one; it's heartily appreciated. I hope you enjoy the second installment; please let me know! Thanks for Kelli, as always, for her help._

**Breakdown **

**Part Two**

Dean was afraid.

Sam finally stopped crying and shaking, but now hadn't moved in over an hour. In response to everything Dean said to him, Sam would only shake his head. He was still lying on top of the covers, staring at the wall. He refused to eat, he refused to drink anything and he refused to talk.

"Sammy," Dean tried again as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Look, Sam, you've got to snap out of this. You have to talk to me."

There was no response. Dean rubbed his face and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Will you at least look at me? Please, Sam?"

Still, Sam faced the wall. Dean knew his brother wasn't sleeping; he could see that his eyes were open.

"Sam –" Dean whispered and squeezed his shoulder. "Okay. I'm going outside for a few minutes, but I'll be right back."

He hesitated before leaving the room, then paced in front of the door for several minutes, holding his cell phone. Dean knew Sam needed help and he also knew it was help he couldn't give him. Sam needed a professional, but Dean couldn't trust his little brother to just anyone. This wasn't like setting a broken bone, or treating other physical injuries. As soon as Sam started talking about his girlfriend being pinned to a ceiling and set on fire by some unknown entity, he would be committed.

The Winchesters had contacts all over the country, but only a few trusted friends. Dean went through the list in his head, and only one name stood out. There was only one person that Dean knew and trusted completely who could understand, at least on some level, what Sam was going through. Dean leaned against the wall and with a shaking hand, he dialed a number on his cell phone.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean sat at a corner table in the bar, nursing a beer. It was a weeknight and the place wasn't packed, but it was busy enough so that there were adequate things to entertain him had he been paying attention. He played pool earlier and won a few dollars, but quickly got bored. He was about ready to call it a night, although it was early, when he saw her walk in. She stopped at the bar and Dean saw the bartender nod in his direction. She was there looking for him.

With a Corona in hand, she sat across from him. "Have you been hiding from me?"

"If I was hiding from you, would I be in your bar?" Dean asked, staring into his beer.

"Technically it isn't my bar." she smiled. "Mommy Dearest still owns it."

She sat back and looked closely at him. "What's wrong?"

"It's my brother's birthday."

She held up her beer. "Happy birthday, Sam."

Dean tapped her bottle with his and took a long sip.

"Did you call him?"

He didn't answer.

"You know that's crap, right?"

Still he said nothing.

"Don't let too much time pass, Dean. I'd give anything to have my sister back."

Dean looked at her. The smiled had faded and now her face clouded with emotion.

"I know. I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "We're talking about you."

"No, we aren't."

She crossed her arms over her chest and studied his face. She hadn't known him very long, but she could see how tortured he was. He was torn between a duty to his father and duty to his brother. She didn't know the whole story, but she knew enough of it to know it went very deep into his soul.

"It's still early." she said after a few minutes. "Do you want to do something?"

Dean finished his beer. "You know what I really want to do?"

She shook her head.

"I just want to spend time with someone I can be honest with; someone who knows some of the bad shit about me, and who doesn't care. I don't want to pretend, I don't want to try to remember what lies I've told." he looked at her, almost afraid.

She stood up and held out her hand. Dean slowly reached for it and let her lead him outside to her car.

OOOOOOOOOOO

She saw the number on the caller ID display and nearly stopped breathing. It had been weeks since she heard from him and every time more than a few days passed, she was worried that something had happened.

"Hey," she answered the phone, struggling to keep her voice level.

"Hey."

Just the one word was enough for her to know something was wrong.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Sammy –" Dean was losing control and he couldn't stop it.

"What's wrong with Sam?" she asked quickly.

All she heard was Dean's troubled breathing and her heart started to beat faster.

"Dean, what happened to Sam?" she asked. "Are you all right?"

"He's sick." Dean finally managed to say. "The nightmares –"

"Dean," she said firmly. "You have to calm down and talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

He sank to the ground, holding his head in one hand and the phone with the other. He took several deep breaths and was finally able to speak. "He's been having nightmares about Jessica since she died. He's not eating right. I screwed up so bad."

"I'm pretty sure you don't have time for that kind of thinking right now. What's got you so worried?"

Dean told her about what he walked in on just over an hour ago. His voice cracked. "I don't know what to do."

"Bring him here." she didn't hesitate.

"I was hoping you'd say that." he said quietly. "Thank you."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean knew there was a lot he had to tell Sam before they got to the small North Carolina town where they were heading, although he had no idea if Sam would be able to comprehend any of it right now. He stood up and slowly walked back to the room, almost afraid to open the door. Dean was used to seeing Sam thoughtful and introspective, but as he stood just inside the room, watching him unmoving and staring at a wall, Dean was frightened.

He decided they would stay put for the night, but in the morning he would pack Sam up and take him to one of the few places he knew they would both be safe.

"Sam, I'm back." Dean said as he kicked off his shoes and slipped out of the jacket he still wore. He'd raided the car for some snacks and tossed the few things he'd found onto the small desk. "How about we eat something and get ready for bed? In the morning we're going to go somewhere I've been wanting to tell you about. I think you'll like it there, Sam."

Dean gathered his strength and rolled Sam onto his back, then whispering to him encouragingly, pulled him into a sitting position. Sam was compliant, but made no moves on his own. Dean removed his shoes and his coat, remembering when he would do the same thing before tucking his little brother into bed.

"The burgers I got are cold now, but there were some chips and stuff in the car." Dean said as he pulled Sam's long legs over the side of the bed. "You haven't eaten all day and you need something." he knelt down in front of his brother and touched the side of his face. "Just a little, okay? For me?"

He nearly burst into tears when Sam nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Winchesters. They belong to a lot of other people including Eric Kripke and I will be forever grateful to him for sharing them with us. I hope he doesn't mind me borrowing them from time to time; I promise to return them as I found them. _

_And I know the rule. If I break them, I buy them._

_A/N: Again, not as one-offy as I originally was aiming for, but I hope you like it anyway. I appreciate the feedback so far; keep it coming. This it pretty much alternate universe territory, but isn't that really what most fan fiction is? Thanks to Kelli for her typo-hunting skills and encouragement. _

**Breakdown **

**Part Three**

Dean was awake, lying on his back, but looking at his brother. He knew he should sleep because he'd be doing all the driving the next day, but he was too worried about Sam. The small nod of his brother's head was the only reaction he got, and it hadn't been enough. Sam would chew and swallow the food placed in his mouth, but he wouldn't pick anything up on his own. Dean fed him without complaint, but it was heartbreaking. He wondered briefly what their father would do and decided it didn't matter. He had a plan to take care of his brother, and that's all he cared about. He wasn't even going to call John unless the situation got worse – he'd only get his father's voicemail anyway.

OOOOOOOOOOO

They were on the road for over an hour the next morning before Sam said anything. The sound of his brother's voice nearly caused Dean to drive off the side of the road.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean glanced at him, fighting to control his emotions.

"North Carolina. A small town near Asheville."

"Why?"

"There's someone I want you to meet."

"Who?"

"A friend. A couple friends, actually."

"No." Sam said, with no conviction behind the word.

Dean glanced into the rearview mirror before pulling to the side of the road. He killed the engine and turned in the seat to face his brother. Sam was staring forward.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to go. I don't want to talk about this with anyone." he still stared forward, but he sounded panic-stricken. "I don't need anyone but you."

Dean rested a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, I'm right here; I'm not going anywhere. But I don't know how to help you with this. I don't know what to do."

"Dean, please." he whispered miserably.

"Sam, we're going somewhere safe. Somewhere I know people who can help you. Please, Sam, please do this for me."

Sam looked at him with tears in his eyes. He had never felt fear like this before. Not when going up against any of the monsters he fought over the years, not when his father told him if he was going to leave to never come back, not when he walked into his first college class. He hated feeling this out of control and he knew that Dean was just going to dump him somewhere and move on. Weakness wasn't tolerated in the Winchester family because, as their father told them time and time again, weakness could get them killed. Any failure was met with more training and angry lectures. He was sure that Dean would follow their father's example and Sam would be left alone.

"Sam –"

"I'll do better, Dean, I promise." Sam said hysterically, reaching for the collar of his brother's shirt. "I won't let you down. Please, Dean, please don't leave me alone."

Dean held Sam's arms, almost wishing for the catatonic state again. As scary as that was, Sam's reversion to a child was even more unnerving.

"Leave you alone?" Dean repeated quickly, "I'm not going to leave you anywhere. I'm going with you and I'm going to stay with you."

Sam searched his brother's eyes.

"I promise, okay?" Dean said, his voice raspy.

Sam nodded, but turned silently to the front of the car. Dean wanted to say something that would make Sam believe him, trust him, but he had no idea what words could possibly do that right now.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Are you hungry?" Dean asked a couple of hours later as he pulled into a diner parking lot.

Sam shook his head. He'd not spoken since begging Dean not to leave him alone.

"You haven't eaten today; you barely ate yesterday. Sam, you've got to be starving. Even if you aren't, you need to eat."

"It doesn't matter." Sam whispered.

"What?"

"It doesn't matter." Sam said, no louder.

Dean shook his head. He knew he needed to stay calm. Sam needed his strength, not his anger and frustration.

"What doesn't matter, Sam?"

"Nothing matters. Not anymore."

Dean grabbed his brother's jaw and forced Sam to look at him. "Don't say that, Sam. _You_ matter."

Sam looked at his brother with tears in his eyes and shook his head sadly. "You don't understand, Dean."

"Then make me understand."

"Mom, Jessica – they died because of me. That's why Dad left and that's why you're going to leave."

Dean felt cold. He had no idea this is what had been going through Sam's head.

"No one died because of you, Sam. We don't know what killed them, but it wasn't your fault." Sam recoiled at his brother's words and pulled away. Dean turned his head again. "It wasn't your fault. And Dad didn't leave because of you. You remember his motel room; he was scared. He ran out of there without most of his stuff – he left his journal. He doesn't go anywhere without that. He left it for us."

"He left it for you."

"He knew we'd come looking for him together. But I'm not going to argue about that with you. You and Dad are going to have to make your own peace when we find him." Dean let go of Sam's chin, moving his hand to his brother's arm. "And Sam, I am not going to leave you. We're going somewhere safe; where there are people who can help us."

Sam had a momentary flash of trust in his eyes when Dean said _we_. But it was short-lived.

"Where are we going? To one of Dad's contacts?" he asked, trying to hide his distress.

"No, Sam. We're going to see some of _my_ contacts. People I trust."

"Who?"

Dean nodded toward the diner. "I'll tell you about them now, if you eat something."

Sam seemed to consider his options, then nodded.

Inside at a corner table, Dean ordered for himself and for Sam, ignoring the strange look from the waitress. Even though Sam had agreed to eat something, he wouldn't make a decision as to what he wanted. Dean sensed the panic that Sam felt when faced with choices and wanted to make things as easy for him a possible. He didn't think Sam was ready to hear about the people Dean was taking him to and he hoped his brother wouldn't bring it up while they ate. He knew he had to tell him the story, at least parts of it, but he didn't know how to do it.

Sam ignored the burger that was placed in front of him. Dean pulled the plate closer and put on the condiments that he knew Sam would want then, like when Sam was little, he cut the burger into four pieces. He suspected the waitress was watching them, but he didn't turn his attention away from his brother.

"You promised you'd eat." Dean said quietly.

"You made a promise, too."

Dean looked at him. "I know."

"So tell me something."

OOOOOOOOOOO

_Dean and John had just finished a job in Tennessee and weren't headed anywhere on a schedule. John heard a rumor about something in South Carolina and they were lazily making their way that direction. Dean had gotten pretty beaten up in Tennessee and John wanted to make sure he was completely recovered before putting him back to work._

_John was planning to spend the night in Asheville and they were on a state highway, nearing a small town. Dean was sleeping in the passenger seat, but woke up at the same time John saw a gray sedan parked on the side of the road. The hood was up and a woman was leaning against the driver side door._

"_Where are we?" Dean asked as he straightened up in the seat._

"_About twenty miles away from Asheville." John said as he took his foot off the gas pedal. "Looks like she might need some help."_

_John taught his boys to always be prepared so Dean reached into the glove compartment and took out a small revolver. He slipped it into his jacket pocket as John pulled up behind the other car. _

"_Hi there." John smiled as he and Dean got out of their car. "Problems?"_

_The woman smiled at them as she stepped away from the sedan. "The stupid thing just stopped and I can't get it started. I called the garage in town, but it's going to be a while before Joey can get the tow truck out here. I was just about to lock it up and walk into town."_

"_That's got to be what? Five miles or so?"_

"_About that. You must just be headed through; you don't live here."_

_John couldn't help but smile at her slight Southern drawl. He held out his hand. "I'm John. This is my son, Dean."_

_She shook their hands. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Julia. So? Driving through?"_

_John nodded. "Yeah. We were thinking of getting a room in Asheville for the night."_

_Dean looked at his father, slightly surprised at his candor. It wasn't like he'd given away any dark family secrets, but it wasn't like John to give out any information. Julia was about John's age, but judging from her clothes and the car, she was in a completely different tax bracket._

"_Why don't I take a look at the car?" John suggested, moving forward._

"_Thank you."_

_Julia stood next to John as he examined things under the hood. Dean leaned against the Winchester's car, arms crossed over his chest. He took a deep breath as a cool breeze passed through, catching the faint hint of something sweet. _

"_Here's the problem, I think." John said and began to clean the corrosion from the battery cables. "It could be something more serious, but let's hope not. Why don't you try to start it?"_

_Julia smiled at him before climbing behind the wheel. She turned the key and the car started immediately._

"_You're a genius." she laughed._

"_Not really." John said through the open window. _

"_Thank you so much." she said again. "Would you mind following me into town? I want to leave it at the garage for Joey to take a closer look at; it's right on the main road."_

"_I don't mind at all."_

_John parked behind Julia when they got to the garage. It reminded him of the place he used to own in Lawrence. Julia was already talking to a young man he assumed was Joey. He and Dean leaned against their car, waiting for her to finish the conversation._

"_Thanks, Hon." they heard her say before she began walking toward them. _

_She stood in front of them, admiring the Impala. "This is a gorgeous car."_

"_Thanks," John said. "We like it."_

"_I imagine." she said approvingly. "So, you said you were going to stay in Asheville. Do you have reservations?"_

_The Winchesters glanced at each other. "No."_

"_Good. I happen to own a little motel here and I know we have some vacancies for tonight. I'd like to repay you for helping me."_

"_You don't have to do that." John said quickly._

"_But I want to. It's nothing fancy, but it's comfortable."_

_John glanced at his son and Dean shrugged._

"_All right. Thank you."_

"_It's close to a little family restaurant. And –" she smiled. "something you might appreciate. The best bar in town – it's called Mojo's. It's kind of a country place, but the drinks are good."_

"_Let me guess." John smiled. "You own it."_

_Julia returned the smile. "As it happens, I do."_

"_Then we'll have to check it out."_

_Dean looked at his father, surprised at him again. _

_They drove to the motel and after Julia gave the desk clerk instructions, they got keys to two adjoining rooms. John protested, insisting they could share a room, but Julia wouldn't listen to him. _

"_Are you going to be able to get home all right?" John asked._

"_I'll just call someone to give me a ride; you've done enough."_

"_I know it's a small town, and you seem to own a lot of it, but I don't want to feel like I left you stranded."_

_Julia laughed. "Not at all. But if you want to give me a ride to my house, I'll have no choice but to take you and your son to dinner."_

_John was taken aback. "That really won't be necessary."_

"_I would insist." she looked him in the eyes._

_Dean watched, his eyes moving from Julia to his father and back again. He couldn't believe it when John accepted the invitation; he elected to stay at the motel while John drove Julia home._

_As it turned out, Julia owned an estate just out of town. She wasn't bragging when she told him the house was situated in the middle of twelve acres and that there were stables and horse trails throughout the woods. John tried not to gape at the house when he pulled up in front of it. It was a large two-story Victorian, painted a brilliant white. _

"_This is a beautiful house." he found himself saying._

"_Thank you. Would you like a quick tour?"_

"_Oh – no, really. Thanks."_

_Julia shrugged. "All right. Now about dinner –"_

"_You really don't have to take us to dinner. The rooms are more than enough."_

"_Nonsense. I'll come to your room and we'll walk over to Mojo's, the bar I mentioned. The food is as good as the drinks and it's a fun place. My daughter enjoys tending bar; she'll be there tonight."_

"_Your daughter?"_

_Julia nodded. "She's about Dean's age, I think."_

_John smiled._

_When he got back to the motel, John found Dean lying on his back in the room he decided was his. "We're going to the bar with Julia. Her daughter will be there, too."_

"_Dad, what the hell are you doing?" Dean sat up._

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Who is this woman?"_

"_Don't be so suspicious, Son."_

"_What?" Dean was incredulous. "I thought we're always supposed to be suspicious. You never know what's out there – sound familiar?"_

"_You need a few days of rest to recuperate. I want to make sure you're up to par before we go back to work."_

"_Uh-huh. So_, _who is this woman?" he asked again._

"_Don't worry about it."_

_Dean watched as John went into the other room. He decided there was no point in fighting his father on this; they were both entitled to some fun some times. It wasn't like he'd never seen John talk to another woman, but he'd never seen John look at anyone like he looked at Julia. He imagined that was the way he used to look at Mary and he felt a pang of regret that his mother was dead._

"_It's still a little early." Julia said later as they walked into the bar. "It will be kind of quiet for another couple of hours. I actually prefer it that way, but the noise seems to make me more money."_

_The inside was like any other bar they'd seen. There was nothing fancy, but Dean noticed the pool tables on the opposite side of the room as a small stage._

"_We have live music on the weekends." she explained. "Let's go over here."_

_Dean's eye caught a young woman behind the bar. She wasn't his usual type, but something struck him. Julia stopped. "Hello, Honey."_

"_Hey, Mom. What's up?" she asked, glancing at the Winchesters._

"_This is John and his son, Dean. They rescued me from the side of the road."_

"_What?" she looked slightly alarmed._

"_The car broke down and they happened by. This is my daughter, Kristine."_

_They shook hands. "It's nice to meet you. Thanks for helping my mom."_

_Before John could speak, Julia said, "They're staying at the motel for at least tonight."_

_Dean glanced at John._

"_You'll like it there. It's quiet."_

"_It seems nice." John said._

"_Honey, can you hand me some menus? I'm treating them to dinner for helping me."_

"_Sure." Kristine said, hesitating just a moment._

_After they ate, Dean left John and Julia alone at the table and wandered to where a group of guys were playing pool. He got himself invited into the game, hoping to win a few dollars. He didn't notice Kristine watching him from behind the bar. She walked over after he won his first game and handed him a beer._

"_You're not hustling pool in my bar, are you?" she whispered._

_Dean looked guilty and Kristine couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry, it's fine. These guys deserve it."_

"_You're not being a killjoy again, are you_, _Kristine?" one of the men asked._

"_Since when have I ever been a killjoy?" she grinned._

_Dean liked her smile and he felt something unfamiliar when she was close. She wasn't unattractive, but not the leggy blonde type he normally flirted with. _

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean left out a lot of details in recounting his first meeting of Julia and her daughter. He wasn't sure what Sam heard because his brother had not reacted at all, though Dean was glad to see that half the burger was gone along with some of the fries. Sam turned his head to stare out of the window.

"Sam?" Dean asked after a few moments. "You still with me?"

Sam nodded, but continued to look out the window.

"What is it?"

There was no response.

"Sam –"

"Just promise me you won't leave me with them." Sam said quietly, facing his brother.

"I've already told you I'm not going to leave. Sammy, where is this coming from?"

"I have to use the bathroom."

Dean watched as Sam stood and left the table. He decided to give Sam privacy; they still had a lot of hours alone in the car as well the night in a motel. But he knew he had to get Sam to trust him or nothing else was going to work.

Back in the car, Sam slipped into silence again. He curled his long body up as small as possible and rested his head against the passenger side window. Dean resisted the urge to place a hand on his back, instead keeping one eye on him and one on the road. He wracked his brain for anything that would have made Sam think he would be left alone with strangers, but nothing came to mind. Sam had been left with friends when he was too young hunt, but he had never been abandoned and never left with people he didn't know. Dean knew that John's training had been tough and his threats dire, but neither boy had doubted that John would always come back to them. Not until recently, anyway.

It was possible there were things Dean didn't know. He'd gone off on a few hunts alone leaving his brother alone with John, but Sam never talked about anything bad happening when Dean came back. Most likely, Dean decided, it was Sam's current state of mind causing the fear. No matter the cause, though, Dean had to find a way around it.

Normally able to drive for hours, Dean was ready to stop again only a couple of hours later. He pulled into a rest area and parked near the vending machines. Sam had fallen asleep and didn't wake when the car stopped. Dean took the keys and headed for the bathrooms and, after answering Nature's call, he stood where he could see the car and pulled out his cell phone.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Winchesters. They belong to a lot of other people including Eric Kripke and I will be forever grateful to him for sharing them with us. I hope he doesn't mind me borrowing them from time to time; I promise to return them as I found them. _

_And I know the rule. If I break them, I buy them._

_A/N: Okay, this is more one-offy than the last couple of parts._

**Breakdown **

**Part Four**

Kristine was sitting on the porch of her mother's house, looking through the paint and fabric swatches Julia had left outside, when she heard the cell phone in her jacket pocket start to ring. She was expecting several calls and didn't bother to check the caller ID display.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Hey, where are you?"

"I'm not exactly sure. We'll make it there tomorrow afternoon – it's still okay that we come?"

"Of course it is. You don't sound well; what's going on?"

Dean told her a little of what had been going on, feeling more frantic as he voiced some of the thoughts in his head.

"Dean, he's in the middle of what used to be called a nervous breakdown. What he's feeling and doing is normal for that."

"He doesn't trust me –"

"Just keep doing what you're doing. Talk to him, reassure him, be patient with him,"

"I'm scared, Kris." Dean said, having no apprehension about admitting that to her.

"I know you are, but we're going to take care of him."

After a few more minutes her Kristine's calming voice, Dean was ready to go back to his brother.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sam opened his eyes and saw the empty space where Dean should be sitting. His first thought was that Dean had left him, but Sam knew Dean would never leave his car. He lifted his head slightly and saw Dean standing near a building, talking on his cell phone. Sam assumed he was talking to one of the people his brother told him about. He wondered if they really were friends or if Dean thought he was crazy and was just going to drop him off at a hospital somewhere. Sam had screwed up; he'd gotten weak. Their father wouldn't put up with that and he was afraid Dean wouldn't either.

Things were coming at him too fast; the thoughts and images in his head were jumbled and made no sense. With all the confusion in his head, it didn't occur to him that Dean had always been there for him. From his earliest memories, it was always Dean.

Although he could see the car from where he was standing, Dean stopped at the vending machines and wasn't able to see Sam's panic. By the time he was close enough to see detail within the vehicle, Sam had slipped back into the malaise that worried Dean the night before.

"Sam?" he slipped into the driver's seat.

There was no response.

"Sam? Do you need to use the bathroom?"

Sam shook his head.

"I got some stuff out of the vending machine –"

Sam shook his head again.

Dean secured the snacks in the backseat and started the engine. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

Sam nodded.

While Dean drove, Sam stared out of the passenger window and tried to sort out the images in his head. He remembered bits of fights between him and his brother; Dean walking away as a young Sam watched through a window. There were other images of Dean turning his back and leaving a grieving Sam alone. But the more he thought about it, the more confused and scared he got.

He started to feel trapped in the car; it was getting hard to breathe.

Dean glanced at him as he started to mumble. He couldn't see Sam's face clearly, but he was sitting perfectly straight so he knew his brother was awake.

"Sam?"

"Stop the car!" he exclaimed.

There was little traffic on the road and Dean was able to navigate to the side without incident. As soon as the car was stopped, Sam pushed the door open and jumped out. He fell to his knees and Dean was next to him almost immediately.

"What is it, Sam? Tell me, what's wrong!"

"Why, Dean? Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why did you always leave?"

Dean looked confused. "I don't know what you mean, Sam."

"You always left me." Sam said, sitting down and rocking. "Always left."

"I never left you." Dean said gently.

Sam closed his eyes, leaning against the car, muttering "always left, always left."

Dean sat down next to his brother and pulled him close. Sam's head rested against his chest. "Sam, what do you mean? I never left you." He could feel his younger brother shaking and he struggled to remain calm.

Sam continued to speak, but his words became unintelligible. Dean held him, gently stroking his arm. After a few minutes, Sam was quiet.

"Sam?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I don't know how to stop. I feel like I'm spiraling out of control; nothing makes sense and I'm afraid – no weakness."

Dean suddenly understood.

"Is that why you've been afraid I would leave you?"

He felt Sam's head nod.

"Sam," Dean maneuvered so that Sam was sitting up and looking at him. "Sam, listen to me. I know things are confusing. You've been through a lot and there's some stuff you need to work through. But you have to believe me; I have never left you and I never will."

"But Dad said –"

"Dad said never leave a member of the team behind."

Sam searched his brother's eyes. "Never leave a member of the team behind."

Dean nodded. "That's right."

Sam rubbed his face. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Stop saying that, okay? There's nothing to be sorry about."

"I don't want to go to your friend's." Sam said suddenly.

"Why not?"

"I can't meet new people right now."

"I understand, but maybe there's something I can tell you that will make you change your mind."

"What?"

"Why don't we find some place other than the side of the road to talk, okay?"

OOOOOOOOOOO

_Dean joined Kristine at the bar after another round of pool. John and Julia had said goodnight for the evening and Dean didn't want to know what they were doing. _

"_Another beer?" she asked._

"_Yeah, thanks."_

_She put a bottle in front of him. "So where are you headed?"_

"_My dad and I are just kind of on a road trip. We're not really going anywhere in particular right now."_

_Kristine nodded. "Looks like you've been in a fight recently."_

_Dean's hand moved to his forehead where the cut was beginning to heal. He still had the remnants of a black eye and his ribs were a little sore._

"_Something like that."_

_She smiled. "You're not going to cause trouble in here, are you?"_

"_No." he returned the smile._

"_Good."_

"_So_, _what about you? Your mom mentioned she owns the bar; you run it or something?"_

"_Or something. I'm going to school in Asheville, but I'm on break right now. I like being here and I like tending bar. We have a manager who runs the place, but I'm kind of learning the ropes from him."_

"_Your mom also owns the motel –"_

"_My family owns a lot of things around here. We've been in the area for generations." she said. "But I don't really want to talk about all our holdings." _

"_Fair enough. What are you going to school for?"_

"_I'm majoring in business and minoring in psychology. All businesspeople are crazy." she smiled. "It will come in handy."_

_Another customer sat down at the bar and Kristine excused herself to take care of him. The place was beginning to fill up and it was getting noisy. Kristine seemed to know the newcomer, although Dean assumed she knew most of the people who came into the bar. He watched as she interacted with other people; she had an easy laugh and it seemed like everyone liked her. Dean realized he liked her even though he knew next to nothing about her, and tended to separate himself from other people. _

"_Sorry about that." she said turning her attention back to Dean._

_He shook his head. "No problem."_

"_Maybe this is forward of me, but I can get out of here in a few minutes. You wanna go somewhere else?"_

_Dean grinned. "Is there somewhere else?"_

_Kristine laughed. "Not so much. But if you're into quiet, we got a lot of that."_

"_Sounds good."_

_They walked around, ending up at the diner Julia had mentioned to Dean and John earlier. _

"_So any other family?" Kristine asked after they ordered coffee and pie. "Or just you and your dad?"_

"_I have a brother. Sam. He's going to school in California."_

"_Oh. Good for him."_

_Dean nodded, noncommittal._

"_Are you close?"_

"_We were." Dean said. "It's hard with him being far away."_

"_You don't live in California?"_

_Dean shook his head as the coffee was delivered. "No. We're kinda nomads right now."_

"_That sounds interesting."_

"_What about you? Just you and your mom?"_

_She nodded. "Now, yeah."_

_Dean wasn't sure if she was going to continue, but after a moment she did. "My dad died when I was a kid. And I had a older sister. She – uh – she died in a fire."_

_Dean caught something in her voice. "A fire?"_

"_Yeah. She got married young and had a baby." Kristine's face clouded. "She and the baby both died in the fire."_

"_I'm sorry. How long ago?"_

"_About two years."_

"_I'm sorry, Kristine. My mom died in a fire when I was a kid."_

_Kristine looked at him. She felt a connection she couldn't explain._

"_What about the baby's father?" Dean asked, clearing his throat._

"_Patrick. He's still around."_

"_He's in town?"_

"_He travels a lot." Kristine took a long sip of her coffee. "I – uh – I was at the house the night of the fire. Patrick was working late and we were celebrating the baby's birthday."_

"_Oh yeah? How old?"_

_Kristine smiled, looking embarrassed. "Six months actually. My sister was really a freak for the whole celebration thing."_

_Dean felt cold. "Six months? Exactly?"_

_Kristine nodded. _

"_My brother was exactly six months old when our mom died."_

_Now Kristine felt cold. She wrapped her hands around the coffee cup._

"_When Patrick is out of town; what does he do?" Dean asked quietly._

"_He – uh – he's kind of like a detective."_

_Dean looked into her eyes. "That's kind of what me and my dad are."_

"_Maybe kind of like a hunter?" Kristine asked._

_Dean nodded._

"_Oh my God." she breathed._

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sam looked at Dean in surprise. Dean looked at him and nodded.

"You didn't tell me this before. Why?"

"We've had a few things to deal with, Sam."

"So we're going to where Kristine is?"

"Yeah." Dean said quietly. "Patrick will be there."

"He's a hunter? Like us?"

"Not exactly. Not anymore. He's more of a researcher. He tried the hunting gig for a while and he didn't do so well. He ended up pretty messed up. So you see, Sam? These people know our business and they can help us."

"Help me, you mean."

"Sam, we're a team."

Sam smiled as tears formed in his eyes. "A team."

Dean patted his arm. "You're stuck with me, Kid."

Sam put a hand on Dean's arm. "I'm glad."


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I own nothing related to Supernatural other than some nifty posters, a talking folder and some other stuff that I probably didn't need. _

_A/N: Okay so I got a bit more done this weekend than I expected and Kelli is a saint to indulge me the way she does. I can't promise when the next update will be, but I'm still a tad ahead in writing so hopefully sooner rather than later. I've given up on the series of one-off idea, but I'm sure you already noticed that._

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and sent private messages. I know we haven't spent a lot of time with Kristine yet, but I'd like to know what you think of her. Oh, and, Sam has a little bit of a potty mouth in this part, but can you blame the guy? He's had a rough time._

**Breakdown**

**Part Five **

They stopped for the night a little earlier than normal, but Dean was too tired to go on and he couldn't trust Sam behind the wheel. Even though he was still worried about his brother, Dean knew he would have to get more sleep tonight. Sam had slipped back into silence again, which made the drive seem even longer.

Dean watched as Sam walked into the room, dropped his bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed furthest from the door. The older brother was hungry, but he didn't have the energy to go back out right now and he didn't want to deal with Sam out in public. He sat on the other bed, feeling guilty. It had only been a few days since Sam's breakdown started and already Dean was tired of taking care of him. He sighed to himself. He'd be better after a little rest and in the meantime, he would just have to fake it.

"You okay, Sam?"

His brother looked at him and nodded. "You tired?"

Dean nodded, surprised Sam had noticed.

"Why don't you just go to sleep? I won't do anything."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"I'm okay."

Dean looked at him. "Let me just sleep a couple hours and then we'll go find something to eat."

"I said I'm okay." Sam said, almost sounding like himself.

Dean laid back, not bothering to undress or pull the covers down. Sam pulled the laptop from its case and settled back against the headboard of his bed.

"Hey, Sam?"

Sam looked at him. "Yeah?"

"Don't go out, okay? Wake me up if you need anything."

Sam's eyes clouded. He nodded sadly, then went back to the computer.

Dean sighed to himself. "It's gonna get better. I promise."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean practically jumped out of bed when he heard his brother yelling. He had no idea what time it was and only barely remembered where they were.

"Sam!" Dean moved to Sam's bed; his younger brother was thrashing and getting tangled up in the sheets. Dean grabbed his arms and tried to calm him. "Sam, wake up. Sam –"

His eyes remained closed, the thrashing continued and Sam started calling out Jessica's name.

"Damnit." Dean growled to himself. He held his brother's arms tightly. "Sam, wake up. It's okay; you're dreaming!"

Sam stopped fighting suddenly. He opened his eyes and looked at Dean, not entirely coherent yet.

"Sam?"

"Dean –" Sam was breathless.

"Yeah." Dean lessened his grip on Sam's arms. "You okay?"

Sam's face set stoically.

"Talk to me, Sam. Tell me about the dream."

Sam pulled away from his brother and walked across the room.

"Sam, don't do this." Dean said, trying not to sound as exasperated as he felt.

"It was the same dram I always have." Sam said angrily. "Jessica is pinned to the ceiling and she bursts into flames. There's nothing more to say about it!"

Dean watched as Sam paced, his hands clasped behind his head. He desperately wanted to take his pain away, but there was no way for him to do that. This wasn't like when they were children and Sam could be comforted by crawling into bed next to his brother. Things were so much more complicated now.

"Sam –"

"She's dead!" Sam exclaimed. "She was warm and kind; smart and sexy. And she's dead because of me."

"Sam, no –"

"Because of me!" Sam shouted, facing Dean. "Just like Mom! Dad is on some fucking crusade to find the thing that killed her. He sacrificed our childhoods while searching and all he needs to do is just look at me. It's my fault; our family went to Hell because of _me_. Jessica died because of _me_."

"Sam, stop it." Dean rushed toward him, grabbing his arms again. "Listen to me. Some _thing_ killed Mom and Jessica. You didn't do it. You had no control over it. You didn't cause it."

Sam stopped fighting and seemed to crumple in his brother's arms.

"Aw, Sammy, don't do this to yourself." Dean whispered as Sam sank to the floor. "It's not your fault. Whatever killed them may want or need you for something, but it's not your fault."

"I'm tired of watching her die." Sam whispered. "It hurts worse every time."

Dean sat down next to him. "I know."

"No, you don't." Sam shook his head. "It's never happened to you. You were four when Mom died and you didn't see all of it. I loved Jessica; I always will. I wanted to have a life with her; I wanted to have children with her."

Dean looked at his brother sharply. He suspected Sam had considered marriage, but the idea of his little brother being a father – it had just never occurred to him. He hated that Sam was robbed of his hold on a normal life. He hated that he would think about Jessica forever and always have to live with the image of her pinned to the ceiling.

"You're right." Dean said quietly. Sam looked at him. "I don't know what you're going through. But I'm here to listen."

Sam chuckled. "What happened to no chick flick moments?"

Dean hated it when Sam turned his words back on him. "Yeah, well, maybe that shouldn't be an absolute."

Sam rested his head against the wall. "I'm so tired."

"I know you are. I'm sorry, Sam."

"Please don't feel sorry for me. I can't handle your pity."

"Sam –"

Sam closed his eyes. "I feel so pathetic."

"Well, you're not." Dean said sternly. "You've gone through a hell of a thing and you're figuring out how to deal with it. And you will."

Sam turned his head toward Dean.

"And I'll be right there with you. You believe that now, don't you?"

"Yeah." Sam whispered, nodding.

OOOOOOOOOOO

After Sam went back to sleep, Dean went outside to call Kristine. It was probably too late to be calling, but he knew she wouldn't mind. He thought about not calling; just waiting until tomorrow when he would see her, but he needed to hear a friendly voice. He thought he'd broken the hold she had over him, but he was beginning to wonder if that was even possible. They both knew there was no future for them, but neither one was willing to give up completely yet.

OOOOOOOOOOO

_They walked on a path around a small lake on her family's property. Neither one spoke, but both were thinking about the same thing. It had been two days since they realized the common bond between their families, but they'd yet to speak of it again. Dean talked to his father; Kristine talked to her mother. Their parents had a similar conversation with each other and John shared more about Mary than he ever had before. He talked to his friends about her, but not like he talked to Julia._

_Kristine looked at Dean. He was staring at the lake without really seeing it. His jaw was set and his eyes clouded. _

"_Dean?"_

_He looked at her._

"_Tell me about your brother."_

_Dean shook his head. "I miss him." He had never admitted that to anyone, not even his father. In fact, after a few fights following Sam's departure, they rarely talked about him at all. _

"_You're proud of him. I can see it on your face."_

"_Yeah." Dean nodded. "He's so smart. Freaky smart. Always has been."_

"_Why don't you call him?"_

_Dean looked thoughtful, but shook his head. "No. He got out; got away. I'm just giving him what he wants."_

_Kristine hugged herself. "I miss my sister. It's none of my business, but I think you're making a mistake with your brother."_

"_I don't think so." Dean said. "He has the life he wanted now. I'm not going to take that from him."_

"_Are you so sure he has what he wants?"_

_Dean looked back at the lake. _

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Hey, Dean?" Sam said the next morning after an hour in the car.

"Yeah?"

"What's going to happen when we get there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Kristine's. What happens when we're there?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't know."

Sam looked out of the passenger side window. He couldn't figure out how he felt; he was talking a little more now and was able to do basic things for himself. Having more than a couple of choices still sent him almost into a panic. He'd spent nearly fifteen minutes staring at the shirts in his duffle bag while Dean was in the shower. Dean pretended not to notice, but on his way past Sam he grabbed a shirt at random and tossed it onto the bed.

He was petrified about getting to their destination. He didn't know what to expect and he was a more than a little worried about meeting Kristine. Dean never let anyone behind the walls he'd erected around himself. Sam sometimes thought the only reason he was let in was because he happened to be there when Dean built them. He knew there had to be something special about Kristine for Dean to have talked to her at all, other than a pick-up line or two.

Sam and Jessica had been together for over a year and he never once told her anything about what his family did. He passed along the same old story they used as children about John being an absent, alcoholic father. He was vague about the details surrounding Dean. Sam just didn't have it in him to make anything negative up about his brother so he just didn't talk about him much. Sam sometimes thought now that if he'd been honest with Jessica that she would still be alive. Even if that wasn't true, he knew he should have been honest with her because he loved her and wanted to have a future with her.

"What about Kristine?" Sam asked suddenly.

"What about her?"

"You two got close."

Dean nodded, his body stiffening. He didn't want to have this conversation, but he owed it to Sam.

"How long were you with her?"

"I don't know exactly. Dad left; I worked some jobs in the area. I went back and forth for a while." Dean shook his head. "I'm not sure."

What Dean didn't say is that he wasn't entirely sure they weren't still together; or if they'd ever really been together. There was a lot about the relationship he didn't understand.

"You stayed with her?" Sam was surprised.

Dean glanced at Sam and nodded.

Sam went back to staring out the window. He hadn't expected to hear that Dean stayed with Kristine and he felt a twinge of jealousy. Somehow he never expected to have to share his brother; he never really even shared him with John. Dean fought for their father's acceptance and his approval, but Sam always knew that when it came right down to it, Dean was his brother more than he was John's son. He still believed that despite the distance that grew between them when Sam went away to college.

Dean didn't want to talk about Kristine, but he knew he had to. He also knew if he didn't get Sam's attention again, he would probably sink back into himself and every time he did that, Dean was afraid he wouldn't come back.

"Sam?"

Sam turned his attention back to Dean. The images in his head were getting confusing again and he didn't want to see them anymore. He wasn't sure he wanted to continue with the conversation they'd been having, though.

"What were you thinking about?" Dean asked, not sure those words had ever escaped his lips before.

"I – uh – I didn't know you and Dad split up."

"Not completely. We'd work smaller jobs separately; do recon alone. We'd meet back up for the big stuff. I told you I was working a job in New Orleans when Dad went missing."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I guess I forgot."

"What's wrong?"

Sam shook his head, smiling. "That's a really big question."

Dean appreciated his brother's attempt at humor. "Yeah, I guess it kind of is right now."

They were quiet for a few minutes.

"We should be there in a couple of hours." Dean said.

"Can we get off the road for a little while? I really don't think I'm ready yet."

Dean wasn't sure if he should push Sam, or indulge him. He looked at his brother and, seeing his pale face and shaking hands, and decided to indulge him. "I'll take the next exit."

They were on a state highway without a lot of entertainment options, but there was a fast food restaurant at the next exit. Neither one was particularly hungry, but after getting something to drink, Sam headed to the park that was near the restaurant. Dean wasn't used to strolling through parks, but he let Sam take the lead.

"How long ago?" Sam asked suddenly.

"How long ago, what?" Dean was pulled out of his own thoughts.

"How long ago were you here? When did you meet Kristine and her mother?"

"Not that long after you left for Stanford." Dean said without hesitation.

"And you've been keeping in touch with her? How long since you've seen her?"

"I – uh – I was with her right before I went to New Orleans." Dean knew there was no point in avoiding Sam's questions and he wouldn't lie to him. Silence would be preferable, but it wasn't an option anymore because it was silence that got Sam to the point he was at now.

Sam shook his head. "And you never even mentioned her."

"Come on, Sam. How was I supposed to tell you about her when you'd just lost Jessica? I wanted to tell you about the connection between our families, but how could I do that without telling you the rest of it?"

"How did you know she couldn't help find Dad?"

"Sam," Dean hesitated. "I've been talking to her."

"When?"

"When you were asleep, or sometimes when I'd go out and you'd stay at the motel."

"I wish you felt like you could trust me with this." Sam said, sitting down on a bench.

"It wasn't about trust." Dean said quickly.

Sam leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped around his soda. He looked at his brother. "No?"

"No." Dean said firmly, sitting next to him. "You know I trust you."

Sam nodded, but Dean didn't think Sam believed him.

"Look, Sam, we'd been apart for four years. Not so much as a phone call between us in all that time. Dad had just gone missing and Jessica – like I said before, how was I supposed to tell you about Kristine when you'd just lost your girlfriend?"

"But you snuck around to keep in touch with her; behind my back?"

"Maybe that was wrong." Dean said, matching his brother's position on the bench. "If it was, I'm sorry."

Sam nodded again. Sometimes he felt closer to his brother than to anyone else, but other times it was like he didn't know him at all. He realized it had been that way all his life; there was always a part of Dean he couldn't reach. When they were kids, they'd get into bed and whisper to each other for hours. Sometimes the conversations were silly and sometimes they were serious, but for a long time there was almost nothing they couldn't talk about. He knew, even then, that there were things Dean kept to himself but there was no subject completely off limits.

Sam thought about the walls his brother put up. He couldn't remember exactly when it started, but they were firmly in place when Dean came for him at Stanford after their father disappeared. Sam's own walls were there, too, though. He wouldn't talk to Dean about Jessica; not because it hurt too much to remember her, but because he wanted to keep her private. He laughed to himself, realizing where that had gotten him. But there was more behind that wall. Sam didn't tell Dean that he'd dreamed about Jessica's death before it happened. He didn't tell his brother about the other dreams he had that came true. He knew he would have to tell Dean eventually, but he was afraid of his brother's reaction.

Dean looked at his brother. Sam was staring forward, lost in thought.

"Sam?" Dean asked tentatively, afraid he'd lost him again.

"What about Dad and Julia?" Sam asked suddenly.

Dean was getting used to these sudden bursts from his brother. "Dad and Julia?" he repeated, not sure how much more Sam could handle.

"Did he keep in touch with her?"

Dean shook his head. "No. He, uh, he couldn't."

"What do you mean?"

"You know as well as I do that Dad is on a mission to find the thing that killed Mom. He's not going to let another woman get in the way of that. Besides it wasn't like that for them. Julia lost her daughter and grandson to the same thing that took Mom. That was their connection."

Dean was going to leave it at that, but Sam pushed. "There's more."

"Yeah." Dean said, not looking at him.

"Tell me."

"Sam –"

"Tell me." he insisted, sounding more like himself than he had in days.

"Julia is dead, Sam."


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I still own nothing related to Supernatural other than some nifty posters, a talking folder and some other stuff that I probably didn't need. _

_A/N: Thanks for the feedback. And, as always, thanks to Kelli!_

**Breakdown**

**Part Six**

_Dean was alone in a motel room. He and John had been headed west to join Caleb on a job, but John sent Dean off to check out some information they needed for Caleb. The information confirmed, he was planning to meet up with his father the next day. He spent a couple of hours in a bar near the motel hustling pool for a few dollars, but finally had to admit his heart wasn't in it and he went back to the room. He was considering just packing up and getting in the car when his cell phone rang._

_He was lying on the bed, flipping through television channels and reached for the phone absently. _

"_Hello?" he didn't bother looking at the caller ID display._

"_Dean, it's Kristine." _

_He could tell she'd been crying._

"_What's wrong?"_

"_My mom –" she struggled to continue. "It came back, Dean."_

_He sat up quickly. "What?"_

"_There was a fire at the house today." she said. "The fire investigators have no idea how it could have started on her bedroom ceiling. Her bedroom ceiling, Dean!"_

"_Kris –"_

"_Where are you?" she asked. "Can you come here?"_

"_Of course I can." Dean didn't hesitate. "If I leave now I can be there by morning. Is Patrick around?"_

_He heard Kristine sniffle._

"_Kris?"_

"_He's in the hospital"_

"_Can you tell me what happened?" Dean asked as he started to pack his belongings. _

_She took a deep breath. "He told me Mom called him and said she thought there was something in the house."_

"_SomeTHING?"_

"_SomeTHING." she confirmed. "He found her, pinned to the ceiling in her bedroom. The fire started almost as soon as he walked in – he got hurt trying to save her."_

_Dean waited as she struggled to speak. _

"_The doctors don't think he'll be able to walk again. He was lucky to get out of the house."_

_Dean sat down hard. "Oh God –"_

"_Please, Dean, please come?"_

"_I'm on my way. Where are you? Are you at your house?"_

"_I'm at the hospital."_

"_Can you stay there until I get there?"_

"_That was my plan." she said, tearfully._

"_I'm getting into the car now." Dean said. "I'm not with Dad; I have to call him –"_

"_Call me later?"_

"_I will." Dean hesitated. "I'm sorry, Kristine."_

"_Why is it doing this to my family?"_

"_I don't know. But somehow we're going to find out. You can call if you need to, okay?"_

_Dean snapped his cell phone shut and made a quick tour of the room to make sure he had everything. He was on the road, headed for North Carolina, when he dialed his father's number._

"_Dean?" John sounded worried when he answered the phone. He hadn't been expecting his son to call._

"_Yeah. Dad, I'm headed back to North Carolina. Something has happened."_

"_What is it?"_

_Dean paused, realizing this wasn't just another job. These people were friends and John had an emotional connection to Julia. _

"_Dean?"_

"_Dad, look, uh," he sighed to himself. "Kristine just called. Julia – Julia is dead."_

_John was quiet._

"_Dad?"_

"_I'm here. What happened?"_

_Dean quickly relayed what he knew. "I'm sorry, Dad."_

"_I'm at least a day behind you. I don't know what to tell you to do."_

_Dean had never heard his father say that before. He didn't know how to respond._

"_Dean," John sighed. "Look, just be careful. Keep your eyes open. And just – just take care of Kristine."_

"_I don't know if I know how to do that."_

"_Just follow your instincts"_

"_Are you okay, Dad?"_

"_Yeah. Keep in touch. Be careful."_

"_I will."_

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean didn't like Sam's reaction to finding out Julia was dead; killed in the same way as their mother and as Jessica. Dean knew his brother still blamed himself for their deaths, and he assumed Julia had just been added to the list of things he felt guilty about.

Sam walked back to the car in silence and hadn't said anything in over an hour. Dean hated the silences. He hated the pain in Sam's eyes and he hated not knowing what his brother was thinking about, what he might be misconstruing. He didn't think pushing Sam was the right thing to do, but he didn't like Sam folding into himself either.

There wasn't much about this situation Dean did like.

Dean saw Sam's expression as they passed the town limit sign. Any color that had come back into his face was gone again. Dean pulled into the first available parking lot.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked quietly.

"Giving you a little more time." Dean killed the engine, then turned to look at his brother. "But you have to talk to me. You have to tell me what's going through your head. I want to know what's scaring you so much about this."

Sam thought about his answer for a moment. "Dean, these are your friends. I'm meeting people that are important to you and I'm not exactly at my best. How would you feel?"

"I didn't think of that. I'm sorry, Sam." Dean shook his head. "I just wanted to get you somewhere safe; where there are people who know what we know and who have been through things like you have. I promise you, Sam, you can trust them. They're not going to judge you."

"And you'll stay with me?" Sam nearly whispered.

"Sammy," Dean's voice was gentle. "We've been through that. I'm not going to leave you. I have never left you."

Sam nodded, uncertainly. Dean put his hand on the back of his neck, pulling him forward. "I'm your big brother."

"I know." Sam said, his voice small. That was something else Dean didn't like.

"If you hate it here that much, we'll leave. But give it a chance, okay? These are good people."

"You trust them."

Dean nodded. "I trust them."

"Let's go."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Kristine lived in a small cottage at the edge of her family's property that was closest to the town. Sam noticed the wheelchair ramp as Dean rang the doorbell. Sam stood just behind him and Dean looked at him encouragingly, turning when the door opened.

"Hey, man."

Dean smiled at the man in the wheelchair and shook his hand affectionately. "How are ya?"

"Eh, you know." he looked toward Sam, extending his hand. "You must be the smart Winchester. I'm Patrick."

"Hi." Sam shook his hand.

"Come in. Kristine should be back soon." Patrick rolled backward so they could walk in. "She had a couple appointments she couldn't reschedule."

"Are you living here now?" Dean asked as they followed him to the kitchen. Sam noticed the protection symbols painted on the walls.

"No, I still have my place. Kristine asked me to hang out here since she had to go to work. You guys want something to eat or drink?"

"Dude, you don't have to play host." Dean laughed as he opened the refrigerator. He grabbed two sodas and handed one to Sam. "You want anything, Patrick?"

"I'm good. Come on, let's go out back." Patrick said as he maneuvered the wheelchair toward a door.

Before following, Dean turned around to look at his brother; Sam nodded at him.

Sitting on a wooden deck that overlooked a grove of trees, Dean and Patrick spent the next half hour talking and joking. They tried to pull Sam into the conversation, but he sat quietly speaking only when he felt he had to.

"I'll be right back." Patrick said. Dean suspected he was only leaving to give the brothers a few minutes alone.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

Sam only nodded.

Without making a big deal of it, Dean moved his chair closer to Sam. "You okay?" he asked again.

"I'm trying." Sam said, then looked around. "Are we going to stay here?"

"I hadn't really thought about it. Would you feel better in a motel?"

Sam nodded. "I think so."

"That's not a problem. We'll stay at the motel."

"Thanks."

Patrick came back onto the porch a few minutes later.

"So, Sam, I hear you're into books. Did Dean tell you our little town boasts quite the independent book store? We even have a section for antique books that people come from all over the state to see."

"I'd like to go there."

"We don't have a lot here, but what we have is pretty good." Patrick said. "What about Mojo's? Did he tell you about Mojo's?"

"The bar." Sam said.

"Yep. Your brother has quite the reputation there – he's one of the best bartenders we've ever had."

Sam looked surprised. "Dean was a bartender?"

"Oh yeah. You ever see the movie _Cocktail_?"

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, he wasn't that good. He was more like Moe on _The Simpsons._"

Sam laughed. Dean thought it was the best sound he'd heard in a long time.

Dean stayed out of the conversation and let Patrick gain Sam's confidence. He watched quietly as Sam slowly started to come out of his shell and he knew he'd made the right move bringing Sam here.

He heard a car pull up out front and assumed it was Kristine. He wanted to meet her at the front door, but he wasn't sure Sam was ready to be left alone with Patrick, even for a few minutes.

"Well here you all are."

Sam looked at her. She was girl-next-door pretty, but not his brother's usual type. He couldn't miss the look that passed between her and Dean. He also couldn't miss the amulet hanging around her neck; it was the same as the one Dean wore.

"Hi, Sam." she smiled, holding out her hand. "I'm Kristine."

Sam shook her hand. "Hi."

"Did you guys get settled in okay? You're probably tired –"

"Kris, I thought we'd get a room at the motel." Dean said quickly.

"Oh." she paused. "That's probably not a bad idea. Did you check in?"

Dean shook his head. "Not yet."

"Why don't I call over there and make sure there are rooms available?" she suggested. "I'll be right back."

Dean glanced at his brother; Sam gestured toward Kristine then nodded. Dean smiled at him and followed Kristine inside.

"Hey, you." She said as they stood in the kitchen.

Dean hesitantly put his arms around her, then pulled her close. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her hair. "Hey."

They stood quietly, holding each other, for several minutes. Kristine felt Dean shaking and she rubbed his back. "It's okay now."

Dean rested his head on her shoulder. He'd been terrified for the last few days; afraid at any moment he was going to lose his brother forever. He drove several hundred miles on little sleep; the stress and the worry had finally overcome him.

"I'm sorry." he whispered.

"Shut up, Winchester. You're better looking when you don't talk." she joked.

Dean laughed. A moment later he pulled away and they stood looking at each other. Kristine reached out and wiped the tears from his cheek. "I'm glad you brought him here."

"Me, too.' Dean whispered.

"I'm gonna make that phone call. You better get yourself cleaned up."


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I still own nothing related to Supernatural other than some nifty posters, a talking folder and some other cool stuff that I probably didn't need. _

_A/N: I know there's been a lot of set-up without a lot of stuff going on. I promise, just a little more of that and we'll be on our way… thanks for sticking with me. I haven't written original characters in a long time and I'm curious how you like them. Thanks to Kelli for her help, as always. _

**Breakdown**

**Part Seven**

Dean stood just inside the house, listening to Sam and Patrick talk about a book both had read recently. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, happy Sam was relating to Patrick so quickly.

"Hey." Kristine smiled as she joined him. "It's not nice to eavesdrop."

"He sounds almost like his old self." Dean whispered as he and Kristine walked further away from the door.

She looked at him in warning. Dean held up his hands. "I know he has a long way to go, but this is a really good start."

She nodded, holding his hands. "It seems like it. I got you two rooms at the motel; adjoining. You want to get checked in and we'll meet you for dinner?"

Dean shrugged. "I'm not sure Sam will be up for that. Making decisions isn't easy for him these days and I don't want to embarrass him."

"I understand. How about I run into town for some steaks? Patrick is a master griller."

"He wouldn't mind?"

"Mind? He'd love it." she said as laughter erupted from the deck. "Things seem to be going well out there. Maybe you could come with me. We'd only be gone an hour or so."

Dean looked uncertain.

"Why don't you see how he feels about it?" she asked gently. "As much as he needs your strength, he's also going to need for you to be able to let go a little bit."

He nodded. "You're right."

"I'm going upstairs to change. I'll be right back."

Dean held her hands more firmly, then leaned down to kiss her. She caressed his cheek.

"I'm glad you're here. Sam's going to be fine."

Dean nodded. He watched Kristine walk up the stairs, then joined Patrick and Sam back on the deck. He didn't interrupt their conversation, but leaned against the railing with his soda and watched his brother. Sam's eyes were bright and his smile seemed to be coming easy. If Dean didn't know any better, he would think there was nothing wrong. He wished that was the case; he wished he'd been able to tell Sam about his friends under better circumstances. He wished for a lot of things for his brother.

"Where's Kristine?" Patrick asked after a moment.

"She went upstairs to change. She volunteered you to grill the steaks she's going to go buy."

"Not a problem. You goin' to the store with her?"

Dean looked at Sam from the corner of his eye. Sam had no reaction to the question.

"I might."

"I'm going to take an inventory of what's in the kitchen. Knowing Kristine's habit of having no food in the house, there's probably a long a list of stuff we're going to need for one meal." Patrick laughed as he rolled himself inside.

Dean turned his attention to his brother.

"You okay to stay here if I go with Kristine?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Hey, Sam?"

His brother looked at him.

"I'm proud of you."

Sam smiled, also looking a little embarrassed.

OOOOOOOOOOO

As Patrick predicted, there was practically nothing in Kristine's kitchen so they decided rather than buy out the store, she and Dean would get the steaks and bring them to Patrick's well-stocked house. Before his wife died, he was the head chef at a restaurant in Asheville. He still enjoyed cooking in the kitchen customized for him after the accident. His house, like Kristine's, had protection symbols on the walls.

The easy conversation between Sam and Patrick continued at his house and by the end of the evening, Dean was more relaxed than he had been in days. He knew his brother still had a long way to go, but couldn't believe how much better Sam looked and sounded already.

Kristine settled on the couch next to Dean as Sam and Patrick wandered outside. Dean had no idea what they were talking about, but each had an opposing viewpoint.

"You look tired." Kristine commented.

"I haven't slept very well in a while."

"Worry will do that to you."

Dean rested his head on the back of the couch. "I haven't felt this good in a while."

Kristine smiled at him. "You gonna fall asleep?"

"I might." he closed his eyes.

She caressed his cheek.

"What are you doing with the main house?" Dean asked, his eyes still closed. He felt Kristine stiffen next to him. He turned his head to look at her. "What?"

"Nothing. I just wasn't expecting the question." she moved away.

"Kris –"

"You know I had the damage repaired. This property has been in my mother's family for generations and she'd never forgive me if I didn't take care of it. "

OOOOOOOOOOO

_Dean drove all night and pulled into the hospital parking lot just before dawn. He had dialed Kristine's cell phone number when he hit the town limits, knowing she probably wouldn't be able to answer from inside the hospital, but she'd listened to his voicemail and was standing in the lobby when he walked in to the building. Seeing him, Kristine rushed forward and fell into his protective embrace. Dean held her and kissed the top of her head gently. They stood that way for several minutes, neither one willing to be the first one to pull away._

"_Thank you for coming." she said, resting her head against his chest._

"_I'm so sorry this happened. How is Patrick?"_

"_About the same. They're going to run some more tests tomorrow, but things don't look good for him walking again."_

"_Damn; how's he taking it?"_

"_We haven't talked very much about it. He slept a lot today and when he was awake, we talked about my mom."_

_Dean lifted her chin. "I'm sorry about your mother, Kristine. How are you?"_

"_Numb." tears glistened in her eyes and she pulled away. "I can't believe this. It's not enough that this thing, whatever it is, took my sister and nephew from me? It had to take my mother, too? What's going on, Dean?"_

_He put his arms around her again. "I don't know. My dad is on his way; maybe he can figure something out."_

_Kristine leaned against him. "I'm so tired."_

"_I'll take you home. We could both use some sleep."_

"_You think it's okay to go there?"_

"_I didn't want you there by yourself, but honestly? I think if that thing wanted you, it wouldn't matter where you are."_

"_That's comforting." she shuddered._

"_I'm sorry."_

_She shook her head. "I'm sure the staff here will be glad for me to go."_

"_Come on." Dean held her hand as they walked out to his car. At her cottage, they fell into bed and held each other until they descended into sleep. _

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Hey, guys." Kristine walked out onto the patio where Patrick and Sam were still having a friendly argument. "I'm whipped so I'm gonna take off."

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked, feeling a twinge of panic.

"He fell asleep on the couch. I covered him with a blanket, but I didn't want to wake him if you weren't ready to leave." she smiled. She wasn't able to read his expression.

"I guess it is getting late." Sam said, his voice flat. "I'll go wake him."

"I've got plenty of room here." Patrick said.

Sam looked from one to the other.

"They've already got rooms in the motel." Kristine said quickly. "Hey, Patrick, why don't you grab those leftovers you're forcing on me?"

He was about to protest, but realized Kristine was trying to give Sam time.

"Yeah, sure."

Kristine smiled at Sam as Patrick rolled himself toward the kitchen. She hoped her brother-in-law understood what she wanted him to do.

"Dean and I talked about the four of us getting together around noon tomorrow. And I hear Patrick told you about the bookstore."

Sam nodded. She was surprised at how suddenly his mood changed and how quickly he was folding into himself. She realized she had probably handled this the exact wrong way; she shouldn't have left Dean asleep on the couch, but Sam had been okay with him going to the store with her.

"Sam," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "if you want to stay at the motel, there's no reason you shouldn't. I know you just met us and I know you're used to being on the road alone with your brother. But we're friends and we're here to help. Both of you."

Sam nodded. "I know. And I appreciate it; things have been -- hard."

"I can imagine. But they'll get better again."

Sam looked past her as he caught sight of Dean walking toward the door.

"Hey, you ready to go?" Dean asked, looking and sounding tired. "It's way past curfew."

"Yeah," Sam looked relieved.


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I still own nothing related to Supernatural other than some nifty posters, a talking folder and some other cool stuff that I probably didn't need. _

_But I still know the rule – if I break them, I buy them._

**Breakdown**

**Part Eight**

Dean woke the next morning, not exactly sure where he was. Normally alert as soon as his eyes opened, this morning, he felt foggy. He was used to only having to turn his head to check on his brother, but remembering that Sam was in an adjoining room, he strained to hear any noise coming through the door they'd left open the night before.

Still not feeling completely himself, Dean tossed the covers aside and walked toward the doorway. He saw Sam in what looked like a peaceful sleep and, after watching him for a few minutes, Dean shuffled into the bathroom. He felt better after a hot shower, but his muscles ached as if he'd been in a fight and he still felt somewhat muddled. Sam was still sleeping, so after getting dressed, Dean made a pot of coffee and booted up the laptop. He ended up playing a mindless game while sipping coffee because he couldn't concentrate on the news articles he had tried to read.

He thought back to the night before and how well things had gone. Sam immediately related to Patrick and, even though they hadn't discussed anything overly personal, Dean knew it was only a matter of time before Sam would feel comfortable enough to share his feelings. Having lost his wife and child to the same thing that took Jessica, Patrick would understand what Sam was going through in a way Dean ever could. He also knew that Kristine would be able to help. After her mother died, she gave up on the business degree and earned an advanced degree in psychology. She worked in an Asheville clinic, but also had a sort of underground practice for people involved in the same life the Winchesters led.

Dean stood up and stretched. After drinking almost the whole pot of coffee, he still wasn't exactly awake. He checked on Sam, who was still in a rare peaceful slumber, then grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen from the first aid kit. He refused to admit he might be getting sick and was taking the pills only as a precaution. He had to be ready when Sam woke up; his brother made a lot of progress the day before, but he was still in a very fragile state. Dean's cell phone started to ring as he swallowed the medication and he grabbed it quickly, not wanting the noise to disturb his brother.

"Hello?" he answered, slipping out of the slider onto the balcony outside his room.

"Good morning. How are you?" Kristine asked.

He leaned against the railing and smiled to himself. "I'm fine. Are you at work?"

"Yeah. I had a couple things to take care of that I couldn't put off. Are we still on for lunch?"

"Yeah, I think so. Sam is still asleep so I haven't talked to him about it. This has got to be a record number of hours he's slept in a long time. I can't believe how well he's doing already."

"Yeah, about that." Kristine hesitated. "I talked to Patrick briefly this morning and he said he didn't tell you much of anything when he woke you up last night."

Dean suddenly felt nervous. "What happened?"

"Sam got really nervous when I told him you were sleeping. It was a little frightening to see how quickly he started to revert when you were unexpectedly not available."

Dean sighed.

"It's not that unusual, Dean. He's got a long road ahead of him."

"Is that your professional opinion?" Dean asked, almost fearfully.

Kristine hesitated. "I don't have a professional opinion. I can't treat your brother, Dean, but I can be a friend. A friend with some knowledge and experience an average friend doesn't have, but that's it."

"He could use some good friends." Dean said quietly.

"I didn't tell you about this to make you even more worried. I just thought you should know."

"I'm glad you told me. Thanks."

"Of course. I'm going to leave here around 11:30; I'll call you from the road to see what the plan is. Patrick will probably be giving you a call soon."

"Okay. I'll see you in a little while." Dean snapped his cell phone shut as he heard Sam call his name from inside. "Out here, Sammy."

Sam stopped at the coffee pot and poured what was left into a mug. Dean walked inside and sat down on the edge of the bed. "How ya doin'?"

"Good." he said after taking a long sip. "Why'd you let me sleep so late?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm not going to wake you up while you're getting the first decent sleep you've had in months."

"Thanks."

"No dreams?"

Sam shook his head. "Nope."

"Good." Dean watched as Sam settled in one of the padded chairs in the room.

"I like them." he said. "Patrick and Kristine? I like them. Thanks for bringing me here. I know this has been hard on you."

Dean leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. "Hard on me? You shouldn't be worried about me."

"I can't help it." Sam shrugged. "I'm supposed to have your back. I'm not supposed to be a burden."

"You are _not_ a burden. You could _never_ be a burden."

Sam looked away.

"Sam. Sam, look at me." Dean said firmly, in his best big-brother voice. Sam slowly turned his head toward him, but his eyes kept darting away from Dean's face.

"Sam." Dean moved closer to him. "You're my brother, you're not a burden."

"I'm gonna take a shower and get dressed." Sam said, standing and leaving the room quickly.

Dean lay back on the bed and sighed.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sam stood in the shower, his head hanging down and the warm water rolling down his back. He hated the way he felt; and no matter what Dean said, right now he knew was a burden. They shouldn't be hiding in some small North Carolina town; they should be trying to find their father or helping someone who needed the special knowledge they possessed. Sam remembered the panic that began to set in the night before when Kristine told him Dean was asleep on the couch. His brother hadn't gotten hurt or left him; Dean was a couple of rooms away getting some much deserved rest, but still Sam had felt a moment of fear. He hated not being able to control his emotions and didn't see how he could ever be okay again.

He told Dean the truth; he did like Patrick and Kristine, but he couldn't just trust them with his intimate memories. There were things he hadn't told Dean; how could he tell strangers? He knew that's why Dean brought him here – to talk to them - but he didn't know how to even start. Feeling defeated, he finished his shower then, after taking longer than necessary to dress, he joined Dean in the other room.

"I just talked to Patrick." Dean said, watching Sam carefully as he sat in one of the chairs. "Kristine will be home soon and we thought the four of us could grab something to eat and then do something this afternoon."

Sam nodded, looking down at the floor.

"Are you up for it?"

"Sure." the younger brother said quietly, still looking down.

Dean moved to the chair opposite him. "What's wrong?"

Sam didn't respond.

"Sam," Dean leaned forward. "this isn't going to work if you don't talk to me."

"I just – I don't want you to think you have to entertain me."

Dean considered his response. "It's just lunch, okay? We'll play it by ear after that."

San nodded.

"I'm gonna head out; get some fresh air. You want to come with me?"

Sam wanted to let Dean go without him, but wasn't ready to fake bravado. He nodded and followed his brother outside.

As they wandered down the sidewalk, Dean gestured toward a door a few stores away. "That's the bookstore Patrick mentioned."

"You mind if I go in for a couple minutes?"

"Go ahead. You want me to come with you?"

Sam looked inside the store. "No, thanks. I'll be okay."

"Okay. I'll –uh – " he paused looking around. There weren't really a lot of choices. "I'll meet you back in here about fifteen minutes. We're supposed to meet Patrick and Kristine about then."

Dean watched his brother walk inside the store, then settled on a bench nearby. He knew Sam could lose himself in bookstores for hours, but he also knew Sam wasn't himself right now. He didn't want to be too far away from him.

He stretched his legs and folded his arms over his chest. It surprised him how much he liked this little town with practically no nightlife and not a whole lot more to do during the day. He'd spent enough time here to recognize a lot of the citizens and know a few by first name. If asked before meeting Kristine, he would have said a small town was not for him. The people were too nosey and there wasn't enough activity to keep him interested. But Dean had not had a real home since he was four years old and his mother died. He didn't know what it was like to have friends and neighbors; to have a connection to some _place._ But he felt a connection to this town, to these people. He could even see himself living here someday and that thought scared him more than anything else.

"You look like you could fall asleep right here." Kristine smiled as she sat down next to Dean.

He looked at her. "Where'd you come from?"

"I called you from across the street, but you didn't hear me. What were you thinking about?"

He leaned over to kiss her lightly. "Nothing much."

"Where's Sam?"

"Inside the bookstore."

"With Patrick?"

"No, by himself."

She smiled. "Good for him. How is he this morning?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I don't know what's going to set him off; what's going to make him happy. I have no idea what to do anymore."

"You're doing fine. Just follow your instincts. You know him better than anyone else and if you just do what comes naturally, it's going to be fine."

They waved at Patrick as he went by in the specially customized van Kristine arranged for him to get after he was released from the hospital. She felt guilty that he got hurt because he was trying to help her mother, but she also loved him like family and would do anything for him. Her mother's will provided for him financially, but Kristine would make sure that he wanted for nothing.

"I'll go get Sam." Dean said as he stood up.

Kristine touched his arm. "Let me do it."

Dean looked uncertain, but nodded.

"We'll be right out. You'd better stay here, you don't want him thinking you left him." Kristine smiled at him encouragingly, then walked inside the bookstore.

It was a large, two story structure on a main corner of town. It had been there for as long as Kristine could remember, but her mother told her when she was a child it, had been a boarding house. Knowing what she did about Sam, she expected him to have gravitated to the well-publicized antique section, but as she passed the self-help section she saw him out of the corner of her eye.

"Hi, Sam."

He looked at her, embarrassed. "Hi,"

"Patrick just drove by –"

He hastily put a book back on the shelf. "Oh, okay."

"You know," she said, her eyes scanning the section. "I can recommend some good books for you if you're interested."

"You could?"

She nodded. "Dean didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I'm a counselor. Eventually I may go back to school to become a full-fledged psychologist, but for now I work in a clinic in Asheville."

Sam wasn't sure how to react.

"Does that bother you?" she asked, pulling a book from the shelf closest to her.

"No." he looked thoughtful. "Maybe."

"Dean didn't bring you here for treatment. He brought you here mainly to talk with Patrick." she took another book from the shelf. "And because this is one of the few places he feels safe."

Sam glanced through the books she handed him. "I never thought Dean would like a place like this, let alone feel safe here. You've been a big influence on him."

"Maybe." She said, still looking at the books.

Sam looked at her. "It's more than maybe."

She handed him one more book. "These are all very good, but I don't think you should read all of them. I know you want to understand what's happening to you, but you probably shouldn't bury yourself in research."

"That's what I do." Sam smiled, a little sadly.

OOOOOOOOOOO

After a leisurely lunch at the diner, the foursome split up. Sam and Patrick decided to head off to the bookstore while Dean and Kristine weren't sure what they would do. Truth be told, Dean just wanted to crawl back into bed. The ibuprofen was starting to wear off and even the food hadn't helped him feel better.

Outside the diner, Dean watched Sam and Patrick head off and he felt a strange mixture of jealousy and happiness. He was glad that Patrick had such a positive affect on his brother, but at the same time he wished he'd been able to help Sam.

"You okay?" Kristine asked, wrapping her arm around his.

"Yeah. Mixed emotions, I guess."

"You're not being replaced, if that's what you're thinking."

Dean looked at her and she smiled. "That is what you were thinking!"

"Not exactly." he squared his shoulders. "Besides, no one can replace me."

They walked toward Kristine's car. "So what do you want to do?"

He thought about the question. He didn't want to admit that he wasn't feeling well; he was barely admitting it to himself.

"And when are you going to tell me you're sick?"

He looked at her, surprised. "How do you do that?"

"I'm not going to tell you my secrets." she grinned. "Why don't you just come back to my place? I'll get you all tucked in and you can get some sleep. It will be our little secret."

Dean rolled his eyes but didn't turn down the suggestion.


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I still own nothing related to Supernatural other than some nifty posters, a talking folder and some other cool stuff that I probably didn't need. _

_But I still know the rule – if I break them, I buy them._

**Breakdown **

**Part Nine**

_John felt completely useless. He'd been looking for the thing that killed his wife for nearly twenty years and was no closer now than when he first started. He liked Julia and felt a connection to her. She was the first woman he'd looked at twice since Mary died and now she was gone, too. He knew he hadn't caused it, but he felt horrible about it_, _nonetheless. He hated being around Kristine because, even though she didn't say or do anything to make him feel that way, he suffered from guilt. _

_He researched day and night. He called every contact he had. He examined every piece of evidence he could find, although there was precious little of that. Just like after Mary died, he got nowhere._

"_Hey." Kristine whispered as she set down a cup of coffee in front of him. He looked up, surprised, and she sat across the table from him. "When was the last time you had something to eat?"_

_John shrugged, putting the book he was reading aside. "I'm not sure. Where's Dean?"_

"_He's out on the property somewhere."_

_John took a long sip of coffee._

"_I make you uncomfortable." she said._

_John rubbed the stubble on his face. "No. It's just –"_

"_You feel guilty."_

_He nodded._

"_I don't blame you for anything." she said, laying a hand on his wrist. "John, if this was easy, you would have figured it out twenty years ago. You didn't cause this thing to come after my mom."_

_John covered Kristine's hand with his own and looked at her with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Kristine. I'm going to find this thing."_

_She nodded. "I know you are. I'm going to help. I can do research, whatever."_

"_Kristine –"_

_She smiled as a tear fell down her cheek. "This thing took my sister, my nephew and my mom. Whether you want me to or not –"_

"_You don't understand. This life – I can't let you do this."_

"_Except for Patrick, my entire family is gone. You can't stop me."_

_John nodded, defeated. "Research. But I won't do to you what I've done to myself. I'm not going to let you give up your life the way I have."_

_Or what I've let my sons do, he thought._

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sam walked around Patrick's living room, glancing at mementoes and looking at the pictures. Patrick rolled his wheelchair into the room as Sam picked up one of the framed photos.

"That's Lauren. Kristine's sister." he said.

"Your wife."

Patrick nodded. "You know, Sam, it does get easier."

Sam replaced the picture. "How do you do it, Man?"

"Do what? Live? Go on?"

Sam nodded, sitting on the couch.

"What's the alternative?" Patrick shrugged. "Lauren wouldn't want me to wither up and die because she's gone. 'Course I didn't realize that in the beginning. I drank, I didn't take care of myself. But Kristine and Julia – they helped me realize that I was breaking Lauren's heart."

Sam looked thoughtful. "I don't know how to get there."

"Yeah, that is the hard part. You've got to go through all the stages – I'm sure Kristine could explain this better, but there are steps a person has to go through to grieve any loss."

"So what did you do?"

"You mean after I got really pissed off?" Patrick shrugged. "I thought about Lauren all the time; the good stuff and the bad. I talked about her. I guess the main thing is I stopped keeping it all inside."

"But Lauren dying wasn't your fault."

"You're saying Jessica was your fault?"

Sam nodded. "Maybe."

"Why do you think that?"

Sam stared to answer, then shook his head. Patrick noticed his hands were shaking slightly before he leaned back on the couch and slipped them into his jacket pockets.

Patrick watched Sam closely. He'd never seen anyone fold into themselves as quickly as Sam did and he wondered if that's what Julia and Kristine had seen him do when the pain of losing Lauren and their son was still new. He wasn't sure what to do. Should he let Sam sink or keep him in the present? He thought back to when he was where Sam is now and what he would have wanted and needed. Letting him sink would allow him to experience the feelings he needed to work through, but maybe it was more important right now to keep him talking. He didn't know what to do and wished Dean or Kristine was here to take over.

"Sam," Patrick began as he moved closer. "It's okay to talk to me. Why do you say you're responsible for Jessica's death?"

"I can't talk about that." Sam whispered.

"Look, Sam – "

Without warning, Sam stood up. At 6"5, he was naturally imposing, but even more so to someone sitting in a wheelchair. Patrick rolled backward, surprised by his new friend's sudden movement.

"Sam –" he began.

"I need to get out of here." Sam said as he headed for the door.

"Sam, wait! Where are you going?"

Patrick heard the front door close before he could maneuver the wheelchair to follow Sam. He knew there was no way he'd be able to reach Sam, let alone keep up with him, so he didn't try. He grabbed his phone and dialed Kristine's number, wishing he'd let her buy him a motorized wheelchair when she wanted to.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"You're kidding me." Kristine said, when Patrick told her what happened. "At least it's a small town."

"I'm sorry – I guess I pushed him too hard. I didn't think so, but –"

"Don't be sorry, I'm sure you didn't do anything. I'm going to head over your way; maybe he just went back to the motel." Kristine said hopefully. She closed her cell phone, then went to the bedroom to check on Dean. He'd practically fallen into bed when they got to the house and after giving him water and more ibuprofen, Kristine left him to sleep. He wasn't showing any signs of waking and she wasn't sure if she should wake him. She decided against it, figuring if Sam was back at the motel, there was no reason to worry him.

Hoping she was making the right decision, Kristine left him a note and made the short trip to town and headed for the motel. She didn't have to go any further than the parking lot.

"Have you found him?" Patrick asked when he answered the phone.

"No." she paused. "The Impala is gone."

"You know you have to tell Dean, right?"

She said nothing.

"Kristine –"

"That's going to go well." she said unhappily. "I'm headed back to my house – you wanna pick a direction and start driving?"

"Sure. I'll call Jim, too." he said, referring to the sheriff who was a family friend.

"Good idea. I'll be in touch." Kristine closed her cell phone and headed back to her house. Rain started to fall as she pulled onto the road. "Great."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean's eyes opened. His throat felt raw and his head was pounding. He thought he heard his cell phone ringing, but by the time he figured out where he was and reached for it, the noise stopped. He was about to check the missed call log, but heard the front door open and Kristine call his name.

He tossed the covers off, but fell back onto the bed as he tried to stand. The room was spinning wildly and he closed his eyes, hoping it would stop.

"Dean?" Kristine stepped into the bedroom. She saw him holding his head. "Hey, you okay?"

He nodded, eyes still closed, but the slight movement made the spinning worse. Kristine moved closer, kneeling down in front of him. "Dean?"

"I feel like crap." he said miserably. "Did you just call?"

Kristine's heart quickened, hoping the call had come from Sam. "No. Where's your phone?"

Before he could hand it to her, it beeped indicating a voice mail. Kristine wanted to tell him about Sam first, but he pushed the button to retrieve the message. He opened his eyes and glared at her as he listened; she wanted to find the nearest rock to hide under.

"Was that Sam?" she asked as Dean dialed a number on his phone.

"What the hell happened?" he croaked. "I need some water –"

"I'll get it." Kristine said as Dean turned his attention to his phone call.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"What are you doing?" Kristine asked as she returned to the bedroom with a bottle of water. Dean was standing and, although obviously unsteady, slipping into his jacket. She handed him the water.

"I'm going to get my brother."

"He's got your car and I'm not giving you my keys." she said firmly. "Where is he? Patrick is out looking for him –"

Dean looked at her angrily. "Patrick is the one who let him go –"

"That's not fair; he's hardly a match for Sam and none of knew he'd take off like that. Where is he, Dean?"

"Fucking half way to somewhere; he pulled into a rest area –"

"You're in no condition to go out, but I know I can't keep you from Sam. Let me call Patrick off the hunt and I'll take you to your brother."

"I can't believe this." Dean grumbled. He neither resisted nor accepted Kristine's suggestion, but after a dose of stronger medication, they were in her car. He pulled out his phone to call Sam as Kristine dialed Patrick's number on her phone.

"Dean?" Sam answered quickly. "Look, Man, I'm sorry. I'll head back; you don't have to come and get me."

"It's okay, Sam. I'm already on the road." he said, struggling not to sound sick.

"From the sound of it, you should be in bed."

"Yeah, well, I'm not. You okay?"

Sam hesitated.

"What is it?" Dean asked gently.

Still he didn't answer.

"Sam? Sammy, talk to me."

"I'm okay, Dean." he said quietly.

Dean closed his eyes and laid his head back on the seat. It was obvious that Sam wasn't all right.

He had nearly an hour head start on them and, as Kristine drove north, the weather worsened. Dean didn't feel well enough to hold a conversation with Kristine. It would be hard enough to talk to Sam with the way he felt, but he could see from Kristine's expression that she felt responsible for the situation. He reached out and put his hand on her leg. She glanced at him.

"It's not your fault." he said, his voice raspy.

She smiled, thankful for his comment but it didn't change the way she felt. And they both knew Patrick was feeling even worse.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sam sat on the driver side of the Impala, thinking back to the conversation with Patrick. He couldn't put his finger on what had triggered the panic that drove him from the house. He was close to telling Patrick about the dreams he had before Jessica died, but then something stopped him. He remembered the feeling when his hands started shaking; fear, desolation and shame.

He remembered the day he met Jessica. They were in an English class together; she was gorgeous and he noticed her right away, but was too afraid to approach her. He'd been away from his family for over a year, but still hadn't quite gotten used to his new life. He had friends and had been on dates, although he was too focused on his classes to think much about girls. He remembered sitting in a coffee shop one evening, lost in an assigned book for the English class. He didn't realize it, but Jessica had been watching him for almost half an hour, wanting to talk to him and hoping he'd notice her. She would learn later that almost nothing came between Sam and his books, but that night she just wanted his attention.

When the chair closest to him became free, Jessica made a move for it. She pretended to trip over his backpack and they ended up spending the rest of the night together, practically inseparable from that day forward. She told him later that she'd been drawn to his innocence, but curious about his aloofness.

Sam smiled at the memory, but before he could fully enjoy it, he saw her pinned to the ceiling over their bed.

"No." he said, nearly a whimper. "No."


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I still own nothing related to Supernatural other than some nifty posters, a talking folder and some other cool stuff that I probably didn't need. _

_A/N: We're only a couple parts away from the end. It's all written and beta'd, but I'm still tinkering… I should have the rest of it up in the next day or so. Thanks for sticking with me and for the feedback. I appreciate it!_

**Breakdown **

**Part Ten**

"He's not answering the phone." Dean said, worried. "I shouldn't have let him hang up. Can you go any faster?"

"I know you're worried, but us hydroplaning into a tree isn't going to do him any good. In case you haven't noticed, there's a torrential downpour going on out there." Kristine glanced at him. "Sorry, I'll do what I can."

"There's the Impala." Dean said as Kristine pulled into the rest area. The cold medication was helping him, but the adrenaline and worry made him practically forget he was sick.

Kristine barely stopped the car before Dean opened the door and jumped out, oblivious to the rain. He saw Sam's head leaning against the driver side window so Dean called his brother's name and went to the passenger side of the car.

"Sammy?" Dean called as he pulled the door open. "Hey, Sam?"

Sam turned his head toward his brother, but didn't respond.

"Sam?" Dean slid into the seat. "You okay?"

Still getting no response, Dean put his hand on his brother's arm. He was surprised when Sam flinched and pulled away.

"Hey, it's me. It's your favorite big brother."

"Dean –"

"Yeah, Kid. You ready to get out of here?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken the car; I shouldn't have left. I just – I needed to get away."

"Hey, it happens. No harm done."

Sam looked at his brother. "You're really sick, aren't you?"

"Big brothers don't get sick." Dean protested. "Now get your ass over to the passenger side where you belong."

Dean got out of the car so he could move to the driver side.

"You're not driving." Kristine said, getting out of her car.

"Kristine, I'm not leaving my car here."

"Fine, I'll leave mine. You're not driving."

"I don't want to fight about this in the rain."

"Who's fighting? You're not driving."

The adrenaline was wearing off and Dean started to feel sick again. "I barely let Sam drive my car."

"I don't give a shit if he drives or if I drive, but you're not driving and I'm tired of standing in the rain. Back or shotgun, Winchester?"

Not feeling quite up to driving, and knowing Dean would want to be as close to the person controlling his car as possible, Sam slipped out from behind the wheel. He pushed Dean into the front seat and settled behind him. Kristine grabbed her purse from her car and got behind the wheel of the Impala. At least a foot shorter than Sam, she had to readjust the seat and the mirrors but she did a good job of ignoring Dean's silent protests.

She set the radio to a country music station, and slapped Dean's hand when he reached forward to play a cassette.

"Driver picks the music." she said and Sam stifled a laugh.

The rain started to slack off and, though Dean tried to fight it, he was asleep by the time they got back to the motel. With Dean being sick, Kristine would have preferred they stay at her place, but she knew Sam would be uncomfortable there.

"How are you doin'?" Kristine asked Sam once they had Dean settled in bed. He didn't wake up as his brother carried him inside.

"I'm okay. I'm sorry for all the drama." Sam said, embarrassed. He didn't look at her.

"Can we talk for a bit?" she sat in one of the padded chairs. "It's okay to say no."

Sam only nodded, still refusing to look at her.

"I talked to Patrick –"

"I guess I owe him an apology."

Kristine waved a hand. "Don't worry about that. He said you told him Jessica's death was your fault."

Sam folded his hands on the table in front of him.

"Do you feel like talking about that?" she asked gently.

Sam shook his head. Kristine was disappointed, though not surprised, and she knew she couldn't force him.

"All right." she nodded. "Why don't I take off and let you relax? You have my number if you need anything – there's a drug store down the street. I'll come by later this evening, if that's okay?"

"Of course." Sam said quickly.

Kristine hesitated for a moment, then put her hand on Sam's. He looked at her surprised. "If you want to talk, I'm here, okay? It won't go any further than us; I won't tell Dean what you say to me."

Sam considered this and nodded. "Thanks. Really."

She smiled at him. "I'm gonna check on him and go out that way. I'll see you later."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Kristine closed her cell phone as Patrick rolled out to her deck later. The storm had passed and it was cool outside.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked, noticing a strange expression on Kristine's face.

"Uh – no one. You doing okay?"

Patrick nodded. "Yeah. I feel pretty bad about Sam, though."

"I know. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he isn't ready."

"This could get more complicated with Dean being sick."

Kristine glanced at her phone. "Yeah. Complicated."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sam settled on top of the bed in his room and stared at the ceiling, Jessica's death playing out in his head over and over. He desperately wanted to feel better, but he couldn't talk to Dean about the dreams. Not yet. He didn't want his brother to know that sometimes his dreams came true; he felt like enough of a freak without Dean treating him differently.

Finally, the images faded enough for him to fall asleep, but the slumber didn't last long. Awake and shaky, he checked on his brother before sitting down in a chair in Dean's room and opening one of the books Kristine suggested. An hour later, he wasn't sure if he felt better or was even more frightened because of what he was learning.

"Hey." Dean croaked. "Geekboy. What are you doing?"

Sam put the book aside. "Reading. How are you feeling?"

"Like crap." he sat up slowly. "Do we have anything?"

"Yeah, Kristine left some heavy duty cold stuff." Sam answered as he fetched the medication and a bottle of water. "She's coming by later."

"Thanks," Dean said after he swallowed the pills. He looked at his brother, who was hovering over the bed. "Sit down, you're making me dizzy."

Sam sat on the edge of the bed, his long bangs covering his eyes.

"You all right?" Dean asked.

"Honestly? I don't really know. It's like one minute, things are fine and I'm having fun and the next –"

"You want to tell me what happened earlier? And maybe hand over your keys?"

Sam laughed. "Kristine has my keys. She drove back, remember? She has the car."

"Kristine has my car? That can't be good; she's gonna play country music in it." Dean shuddered and took another long sip of water. "So?"

Sam's smile faded.

"What happened, Sam?" Dean asked.

"I saw a picture of Patrick's wife at his house and we started talking. It just got too close too fast. I – I felt trapped and I just wanted to run."

"I get that, Sam, I do – I know you need to be alone to figure things out, but right now –" Dean stopped. He could tell Sam already felt bad enough about taking off. "I'm glad you called me, though."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"_Tell me about her."_

_John looked at his younger son. They didn't spend much time alone together, but Dean was helping Pastor Jim with a project and wouldn't be home until the next morning. Sam stepped out onto the porch of the small house they were renting and tentatively sat next to his father._

"_Oh by now, Sammy, you know the stories as well as I do." John said sadly._

"_I wish I could remember her." _

_John handed him the snapshot he'd been staring at. It showed a happy family; mother and father were beaming over their two young sons. Sam knew this picture had been taken only a few weeks before his mother died, but he was only six months old and there was no way he could have any memory of her or of the picture._

"_I wish you could, too, son. Some day, when all this is over, I want you and your brother to find someone that makes you happy."_

_The fifteen year old looked at his father. "Will this ever be over?"_

_John met his son's gaze. "I hope so, Sammy."_


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I still own nothing related to Supernatural other than some nifty posters, a talking folder and some other cool stuff that I probably didn't need. _

_A/N: One more installment after this … and we jump into the alternate universe pool with this one. Thanks for the feedback; keep it coming. Thanks also to Kelli who finished up the beta fresh from a road trip. _

**Breakdown **

**Part Eleven**

Sam opened his eyes, not aware he'd gone to sleep. He looked around and saw that he had fallen asleep in the chair closest to Dean's bed. Under the influence of cold medication, Dean had been sleeping peacefully for hours. Sam walked to the bathroom, the vague memory of a conversation with his father nagging at him. Despite all of the arguments Sam had with his father, including the one that kept him from his family for over two years, Sam never stopped loving John. He didn't understand Dean's blind faith in him, but Sam admired him in his own way. He wished things had been different between them, but vowed to put things right when he and Dean finally found him.

He sat down on the edge of Dean's bed and carefully felt his forehead. He didn't like the sheen of sweat on his brother's face and wasn't surprised that his skin felt so hot. He got some ice from the machine down the hall, then filled the ice bucket with water.

"Sammy –" Dean muttered as his younger brother wiped his face with a wash cloth dipped into the cold water.

"Right here, Dean."

"You doin' okay?"

Sam smiled to himself. Dean's eyes weren't even open yet and he was already more concerned with his brother's well being than his own.

"I'm fine. You need to take some more medicine."

"Tired."

"I know, but you've got a fever. We need to get it under control."

Dean licked his dry lips. "Water?"

"Sure. I'll be right back."

Sam returned a moment later with another dose of medicine, water and a dry shirt. Getting the pills into Dean proved easier than changing his shirt, but finally the job was accomplished.

"What time is it?" Dean asked.

"Almost 5:00. You've been asleep for quite a while."

"You need to eat."

"You need to stop worrying about me and get well."

Dean opened his eyes. "You'd better be taking care of yourself."

"I'm fine; really. Kristine said she'd stop by later; I'll go out and get something to eat when she gets here."

As if on cue there was a knock on the door. "I'll be right back."

"Hey." Kristine smiled.

"What's all this?" Sam asked as he took two grocery bags from her.

"Just a few basic supplies. Drinks, things that can be thrown into the microwave, soup for the sick one." Kristine glanced toward the bed. "How is he?"

"He's been better. You didn't have to do all this." Sam said as he put a few things into the small refrigerator.

"It's almost nothing." Kristine said as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She could feel the heat coming from Dean's body and caressed his face and arms with the wash cloth Sam left in the ice bucket.

Dean opened his eyes and smiled. "Hey." his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Hey, yourself."

"Make Sammy eat."

Kristine glanced over her shoulder; Sam was standing nearby.

"I was going to take him to dinner, but I'm not so sure I want to leave you by yourself."

"I'll just sleep. Go ahead."

"I'm not leaving you here alone." Sam said. "You're burning up –"

Dean was about to protest, but Kristine spoke up. "I stopped by the grocery store on my way here, but how about we order a pizza?"

"I don't care as long as he eats."

Sam smiled, even though he knew Dean couldn't see him. It never ceased to amaze the younger brother how Dean always put his needs first. He sometimes forgot that about his brother, but was usually reminded quickly enough. Sam could think back to any number of times over the years that Dean went without something so Sam would have plenty. He looked away as tears stung his eyes.

Dean was sound asleep when the pizza was delivered so Kristine and Sam went into the other room.

"I called Patrick earlier." Sam said as they settled in the chairs around the small table. "I felt like I needed to apologize to him."

"I'm sure he appreciated it, but I know he felt horrible about what happened. He wanted to come with me tonight, but he leads a support group for disabled men in Asheville once a week –"

Sam nodded. "He mentioned that. It's really impressive he's doing so well considering everything he's been through."

"Yeah." Kristine said thoughtfully. "But it didn't happen overnight."

"I guess not." Sam agreed as he contemplated a piece of pepperoni.

"He still has his dark times, too."

Sam looked at her. "Really? He seems to be so together."

"He is. Most of the time. But sometimes something will trigger a memory and he sinks down for a while. I do, too."

"I guess you've been through a lot, too. Your family –"

Kristine nodded. "Yeah, it's overwhelming sometimes. I still miss my mom and Lauren; she and I were really close."

Sam thought about how he would feel if something happened to Dean. It was hard enough losing Jessica, but Dean had always been there. Sam's earliest memories involved his brother and, even when they were separated, Sam had the option of getting in touch. He loved Jessica with his whole heart, in a way he could never have imagined before, but as strong as that was, she had been in his life for less than two years.

"What was your sister like?" Sam asked.

Kristine smiled. "She was amazing. She was five years older than me and was the best sister I could have asked for. Instead of ditching me when she'd hang out with her friends or when she started dating, she'd make me a part of it. Not all the time, but enough. Even after she and Patrick got married, she made me a huge part of her life."

"It must have been really hard to lose her."

"I still miss her. But I know she wouldn't want me to stop living." Kristine decided to take the plunge. "I don't think Jessica would want that for you either."

Sam glanced at her, but stared intently at his slice of pizza.

"She wouldn't." he agreed. "But it's not that simple."

"It's never simple, Sam."

He smiled sadly. "You don't understand. There's something – I haven't even told Dean –"

Kristine watched him, but didn't push. She could see he was wrestling with his emotions and she couldn't help but wonder what he was hiding.

"You said before you wouldn't tell Dean what I say." Sam looked at her. "Did you mean that?"

She nodded. "Yes, I did."

Sam glanced toward the door to the adjoining room and confirmed it was still closed. "I had dreams about Jessica dying for days before it happened. I saw her on the ceiling, I saw her bursting into flames, everything."

Kristine didn't know what to say. "Sam –"

"I didn't do anything to stop it."

"You had no way of knowing –"

"Yeah, I did. There have been other dreams that came true." he said, looking at the table.

Kristine put her hand on his arm. "And just what do you think you could have done?"

"Warned her – I never told her the truth about my family and what we do. We were together for a year and a half and I never told her anything. She thought Dad was an alcoholic and I don't even know what I led her to believe about Dean."

"Sam," Kristine hesitated. "You were being loyal to your family and, considering what your family does, that is of paramount importance. You're a good son and a good brother. And what if you had told her? Could she have lived with that?"

Sam looked uncertain.

"Besides, you still don't know what this thing is. As hard as it is to admit, you couldn't have protected Jessica and telling her about the dreams would have made her last few days torture."

"I left her alone." Sam said quietly.

"Your family needed you." Kristine said as she felt Sam's arm begin to shake under her hand.

"Jessica needed me."

"Sam," Kristine searched for the right words, but she wasn't sure they even existed. "Sam, there was nothing you could have done even if you'd been there. I know because I was with my sister when it happened to her."

Sam looked up sharply. Kristine nodded.

"We were in the den watching some dumbass chick flick and we heard Jeffrey start to cry. Lauren went to the nursery to check on him and then I heard her yelling at someone. By the time I got down the hall, it was too late."

"I'm sorry." Sam whispered.

Kristine smiled at him sadly. "Thanks. See, Sam, your dad has been hunting this thing for over 20 years. You had dreams for a few days. There was nothing you could do."

A tear rolled down Sam's cheek.

"Sam –"

The shaking became more violent and all the color drained from his face. Kristine wasn't sure if she was thankful or afraid that Dean wasn't awake to see it.

"Sam, talk to me. Tell me what you're feeling."

"I don't know." he folded his arms on the table and laid his head down. Kristine hesitated, then touched his hair. She cursed the timing of her cell phone starting to ring, but it was within reach and when she looked at the caller ID display, she answered it.

"Where are you?" she listened for a moment. "Get over here, now."

Sam wasn't making any noise; he wasn't moving. Kristine caressed his hair and tried to get his attention. He didn't respond.

"Sam, talk to me. Whatever is going on in your head, it's going to be okay. Just tell me what's happening."

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Kristine kept an eye on Sam as she went to answer it.

"Where's my boy?" John Winchester asked, worriedly, as he walked into the room.

Kristine put a warning hand on his arm when he saw Sam. He nodded and approached his son carefully.

"Sam." John laid a hand on his shoulder. "Sammy?"

Sam lifted his head slowly. "Dad?"

"Hey, Son." John pulled the empty chair close to him and sat down.

"We've been looking for you – are you all right?" Sam held onto his father's sleeve.

"I'm fine."

"What are you doing here?" Sam whispered.

"Kristine called me and said you might need some help."

"You came –"

"Sam, I know about Jessica. I'm so sorry. I would have done anything to protect you from that kind of pain."

Sam nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Kristine slipped into the other room.

"I know how you feel. I remember." John said.

"But you didn't –" Sam looked away.

"Yeah, I did."

Sam looked at him.

"I left you and your brother with Mike – I fell apart. But I had two boys to take care of. I didn't take care of myself. But you, you're smarter than I am. You're going to take care of yourself – with my help and with your brother's. Dean did right to bring you here. Kristine knows how to deal with people like us and Patrick knows what you're going through. You're going to be fine, Sammy." John squeezed his shoulder. "Sam."

Sam nodded. He wasn't ready to tell his father about the dreams, either


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: Standard stuff. I still don't own them, but wouldn't mind renting them for a while. _

_A/N: Well here we are; the end of the tale. The story came out pretty much the way I've been thinking about it all these months, even though some of the details weren't used. I appreciate everyone's indulging me in this and I'm glad Kristine and Patrick were well received. Patrick is new to me as well, but Kristine has been with me in one form or another since I was in high school. Your feedback has been most welcome and I hope you'll share another Winchester adventure with me soon. _

_Special thanks to Lara and Faye; they have no idea how much their simple words of encouragement mean to me. Thanks, as always, to Kelli. She knows how much I appreciate her!_

**Breakdown **

**Part Twelve**

"I must be dreaming." Dean said later when he opened his eyes and saw John sitting next to his bed. "Dad?"

"It's really me, Son."

"Where's Sam? Is he okay?" Dean asked as he sat up.

"He's asleep in the other room. It's almost three in the morning."

"What are you doing here?"

"Kristine left a message on my cell. She said you were sick and Sam wasn't doing well. She insulted me in a few different ways, then told me I needed to get here."

Dean couldn't help but smile. John let Kristine get away with quite a bit.

"I was surprised you didn't call when Sam got into trouble." John said quietly.

Dean said nothing and John decided to let it go. "How are you feeling? The fever went down."

"I feel okay." Dean said, sounding almost surprised. "I'm hungry."

"Kristine brought some food earlier. I'll nuke something for you."

"I can't believe you're here." Dean said. "Are you okay? Where have you been –"

"We can talk about all that later."

Dean threw the covers aside. He went into the bathroom and then went to check on his brother. Sam was tangled in the sheets on his bed, but sleeping peacefully. Dean watched him for a few minutes before going back to his father. John put a serving of soup on the table and got a bottle of water from the small refrigerator.

"I'm proud of you." he said when Dean sat at the table.

Dean looked at him surprised. "What for?"

"Bringing your brother here. That was a good idea."

"How much do you know?"

"Sam told me some things and, after he fell asleep, Kristine filled me in on the rest. Must not have been too easy on you."

Dean ate some of the soup, saying nothing. John watched him.

"And things with Kristine? They're okay?"

"You know how that goes, Dad." Dean opened the bottle of water. "God, I still can't believe you're here."

"Yeah, well, my boys are in trouble. I should be here."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"_You want me to stay?" Dean asked, surprised._

"_I know you want to stay. I can handle this job on my own and we'll go from there." John put the last of his clothes into a duffle bag._

"_I should go with you – watch your back."_

"_I'll be fine. You stay with Kristine. Have a little fun."_

_Dean looked uncertain._

"_Kristine lost her mother not that long ago. She needs a friend – someone she can be totally honest with. You need to be that person for her."_

_Kristine stood in the doorway. "Dean, can I talk to your father for a second?"_

_Dean looked from one to the other. "I'll take your bag out to the car, Dad."_

"_Thanks, Son." once he was gone, John turned his attention to Kristine._

_She pulled an envelope from her back pocket. I talked to my mother's lawyer last night and he had something for you."_

"_For me?"_

_Kristine nodded. "This was something Mom asked him to set up before – " _

_John took the envelope from her. He looked at her surprised, seeing what was in it._

"_There's one for Dean, too"_

_John held up a credit card. "I can't take this."_

"_Yeah, you can. Mom wanted to do something to help the fight and this was what she figured out. The cards are legitimate, but won't easily trace back to us. Uh, me. You can use it for whatever you need to and the payments will be taken care of."_

"_Kristine –" he shook his head._

"_It's what my mother wanted to do. She trusted that you'd do the right thing with the money."_

_John hesitated. He didn't feel right about this, but he couldn't deny Julia something she'd wanted. "Thank you."_

"_You don't have to thank me. I'm glad Mom thought to do it."_

_John put his arms around Kristine. "I'm really glad we met, Kristine."_

"_I am, too."_

"_Take care of my boy while I'm gone."_

_Kristine nodded against his chest. "I will."_

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sam and his father had long conversations about love and revenge over the next few days. Sam and Kristine had long conversations about guilt. She was well on the way to making him understand that despite the dreams, there was nothing he could have done to protect Jessica. She wanted him to tell Dean about the dreams, but Sam wasn't ready to do that. He was still afraid they would make Dean treat him differently and he didn't think he could handle that right now. But he promised Kristine that he would tell him soon. Sam and Patrick spent time together talking about the women they loved. The dreams didn't stop, but they didn't come as often.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean woke up one night to find Sam sitting in his room.

"Sam?"

"Did I wake you?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean sat up. "No. What's going on?"

"I woke up and –"

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"No. I just needed to be close to you."

Dean looked at him, concerned, but Sam waved his hand. "I'm okay, really. I just – " he shook his head.

Tossing the covers aside, Dean padded across the room and sat down across from Sam. "I know. I feel that way sometimes, too."

Sam smiled at him.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"You're leaving again, aren't you?" Dean asked John one morning a couple of weeks later.

John looked at him. They were walking around the main house, checking the symbols and other methods of protection Kristine had arranged for during the remodel after the fire. In a late night conversation, she told Dean that she rarely went to the main house, but allowed wayward hunters and others in the business to use it when they needed a safe place to stay. Some of the Winchesters' contacts had already taken advantage of the safe house.

"I have to, Dean."

"Let us go with you."

"Not yet. I'm close to it, Son, but it's not time to bring you and your brother in."

"We can help –"

"And you will help. When it's time."

Dean knew better than to argue with his father.

"Will you at least keep in touch this time?"

"Better than I did." John promised. "You know Sam isn't out of the woods yet. Not completely."

Dean nodded. "I know. We'll stick around here for a little longer."

John looked at his son. "And you'll be able to spend more time with Kristine."

"For all the good that will do." Dean muttered.

"You know," John put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "I've learned a lot in the last twenty years or so, but not as much as I learned from your brother in the last few days."

"What do you mean?"

"What we do is important. We help people; we save lives. But we're entitled to our own lives, too. Kristine is important to you and you're important to her. Don't take that lightly."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Hey, Son." John said as he sat down next to Sam. His younger son was reading one of the books Kristine had recommended.

"Dean said you were leaving."

John nodded. "In the morning."

"I wish you wouldn't."

"I have to, Sam. For now."

Sam looked uncomfortable. "Dad – thank you."

"I know I haven't been the best father all these years, but I hope you and Dean realize –"

Sam nodded. "We know, Dad."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"You all set?" Kristine asked as she joined John at his truck the next morning.

John nodded. "Yeah."

"Are you sure it has to be this way?"

He nodded again. "Yeah, for now, it does."

Kristine wondered why, but knew John wouldn't answer if she asked. "Is there anything you need?"

"No, but thank you." he put his arm around her shoulders. "I still have the credit card."

"You don't use it very much."

"When I need to. You know you're doing a good thing here."

"I do what I can." she grinned. "Since someone won't let me play with the guns and knives."

John laughed. He saw his sons walking toward them and hugged Kristine. "Take care of my boys."

"I will, John. Be careful."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Kristine stood on the porch outside her house with Patrick as the Winchester brothers packed the car. John had been gone for over two weeks, Sam was doing much better and it was time for them to get back to work.

Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder, then traded places with Kristine. She and Dean walked to the side of the house, holding hands.

"Keep the lines of communication open with Sam." she said.

"I will."

"And with me." she said, her voice catching.

"Kristine –"

"It's okay, I know you have to go." she smiled at him sadly. "But I don't know how many more times I can say goodbye to you."

He caressed her cheek. "It's not forever. It's never forever."

Kristine let Dean wrap her in his arms.

"I adore you, Dean Winchester." she whispered.

"What's not to adore?"

Kristine pulled away and hit him playfully. "Jackass."

Dean smiled, then looked at her intently. She smiled and touched his cheek.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"You okay, man?" Sam asked as they pulled away from Kristine's house.

Dean nodded. "Yeah." He looked at his brother. "You?"

"Getting there."

They waved at Kristine and Patrick as Dean pulled away from the curb. He watched in the rearview mirror until a curve blocked the house from his view. He felt his chest tighten, but he knew this was the way it had to be.

He glanced over at Sam. The color was back in his face and the light in his eyes made occasional appearances. He knew there was still work to be done, but they had talked a lot and Dean knew it would continue because he would make sure of it. It was Sam's idea to get on the road; he was beginning to feel restless and wanted to feel like they were making progress in finding Jessica's killer. They elicited the promise of a weekly phone call from their father and, while they both wanted more, had to be content with what John felt was safe. In the meantime, they would hunt things and help people.

"Hell of a couple months, huh?"

Sam nodded in agreement. "Hell of a couple months."


End file.
